Mademoiselle Meurtre
by LeggoMyMeggo92
Summary: This is the tale of Madelyn Rowley as she tries to save her brother from the clutches of the German Army. Along the way there will be romance, forgery, tragedy, and of course, Killin' Nazis. Reviews appreciated, t for language and slight violence.
1. The Beginning

_Munich, Germany, June 1936_

"Alarik, I'm scared."

Madelyn knew she shouldn't be listening in on her parents, but she couldn't help it. The walls in their tiny apartment were almost translucently thin.

"Why? We will not be bothered by the Furher's decrees, so why should we care?" she could hear her father setting the teapot on the potbelly stove.

"It's only a matter of time before they kick us out. We are not German citizens-."

"The only non-German here is you. The children and I will be fine." Her father tromped back over to the table and sat across from her mother.

"I think we should leave before it's too late."

"And go where, Ella? Where would you go?"

"Back to England, I'm still a citizen and my parents can be Madelyn and Charles' sponsors." Her mother had, in fact, already applied her and her brother for British citizenship and had her children pack their bags. They were going with or without her husband that night, no matter what.

Madelyn reached down under her bed and felt for the leather strap of her suitcase. She found it and gripped it tightly, waiting for her mother to knock on her door to signal their departure.

"It's a preposterous idea, they'll never get citizenship. You haven't thought this through, Ella." Alarik commented almost nonchalantly. Madelyn threw a book at her twin brother to rouse him from his sleep because she knew what was coming.

Then Madelyn heard nothing but her mother's soft footsteps followed by a light knock on her door.

* * *

_London, England, October 1940_

"Mother, is there anything we can do?" Charles asked their mother who was lying on her deathbed. Madelyn sat next to her, holding her chilled hand.

"Your father…I should like to see him…one last time before I go." She said weakly through her labored breath. Madelyn looked at her brother worriedly. He nodded his head for her to follow him out to the hallway.

Once the door shut they stood across from each other, only centimeters apart so only they would hear their conversation. Their grandparents were old, but most certainly not deaf.

"A letter won't get there in time, Charles. By the time he gets it it'll be too late. The doctor said-"

"I know what the doctor said, Madelyn." He sighed, not wanting to say what he had to, "One of us has to go back."

"Are you insane? Charles and Madelyn Amsel don't exist anymore! And I highly doubt they'll let in a citizen of Her Majesty's empire, much less let them back out!" Madelyn looked at her brother with terrified blue eyes. Their mother, immediately after arriving in England and gaining citizenship for her children, destroyed their German papers and changed their last names to Rowley, her maiden name.

"I have to try! This is mother's last request, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to make it happen." He kissed his sister on the cheek and headed to his room to pack.

She shook her head, knowing there was no way she was going to be able to stop him. He left two hours later with a small satchel of clothes and a promise to contact her as soon as he found their father.

It would be two weeks before she received any word from him at all, and in that two weeks she saw her mother slowly but surely peter out, her candle finally snuffed two days before a telegram arrived from Charles.

'_Been forced into German army STOP On my way to Poland STOP Will be fine STOP More later love Charles STOP'_

She cursed herself and spent the next three days in her room, crying and helplessly hoping that he would be alright.

Life went on, as it often does after one receives bad news. She worked as a clerk in a small bookstore about two blocks away from her house and at night as a waitress at a nearby restaurant. She would collapse into bed every night around one AM and sleep until six, when she was awakened by her grandfather to help make their breakfast and do housework.

Nearly a month after the telegram came a letter.

'_Dear Madelyn,_

_I had to tell a few of my peers that you were my girlfriend in order to get this letter smuggled out of the country. It's horrible here, Maddie. I'm afraid Mother was right to worry, it's worse here than I ever imagined. The Germans have rounded up all their undesirable populace and stuck them in places like where I am currently employed. I am stationed not far from Oswiecim, Poland, working in a camp called Auschwitz-I. There are many Polish people, most are Jews, I think the total numbers are around 11.000 prisoners. The Germans treat them like animals. They beat them, force them to work in horrid conditions with no breaks, they are fed next to nothing…_

_I can only thank my lucky stars that I have a desk job. I am paid a decent wage and am fed a decent three meals a day; my only complaint is that my desk faces out onto the courtyard where I can see all the horrors of this place. I know that this is only the beginning. _

_I can't see myself returning to you anytime before this war is over, my dear sister. As for Mother, I hope she is at peace and went quietly in her sleep. I found Father; he still lives above the shop. That's how I got here, however, he turned me in. He had copies of my papers and since I'm eighteen they enlisted me without batting an eye. _

_I don't know how much I'll be able to write, but I will when I can. Give our grandparents a hug for me. _

_Love,_

_Charles'_

She didn't dare show her grandparents. Every night when she stumbled home, exhausted after a full day's work, she would pull the letter out from under her pillow and read it over and over until her eyelids finally closed for the night.

It took her only a few days to formulate a plan to free her brother. Two more days and she had funding, then it was only a matter of how fast her grandparents would go until she could put her plan into action.


	2. Becoming

_Paris, France, July 1942_

It started as an accident. Madelyn had been walking home alone through a dark alleyway near her small apartment building on Montmartre when an obviously drunk German officer pinned her against the wall. Having planned for something like this, she pulled out the blade she kept hidden on her person and stabbed him once, twice, thrice in the stomach.

Blood, wet and slick, had coated every inch of her. She thanked her lucky stars that it was dark and all she had to do was round a corner to get home. She washed all the blood off her skin, watching it run down the drain before disappearing forever. She cleaned her blade with care, making sure to rid the engraving on the blade of every drop of dried blood.

She lay awake that night thinking about what she had done. She had rid the world of one Jew-hating innocent-killing soul-crushing, brother-trapping German, and she felt good.

The next night she burned her clothes in the alley. The Germans had already cleaned the scene of the crime, and the burning seemed to cleanse it further. It was a form of catharsis, redemption even, but she was careful to clean up after herself.

That had been a year ago, almost to the day. Now she would patrol the streets every night looking for the German uniform, and God help those she did find. She would lure them away from their post for only a moment or two, then slit their throats or slice them to ribbons. It didn't take long for rumors to start circulating. One of Madelyn's favorites was that she slept with the men before killing them.

She didn't kill too often, for she feared the consequences the Germans would unleash upon the French peoples. She limited herself to two a month, maybe three (or four, or five) if they were being especially horrible that month. And that limit was exceedingly hard for her to keep.

This killing spree had earned her her very own nickname. Mademoiselle Meurtre, but the Germans called her Fraulein Mord. In English she was Miss Murder.

Her day life was spent working at a small candy and chocolate shop only two blocks from La Tour Eiffel, overlooking La Seine. She would often lean against the counter, cheek in hand, and daydream about typical girly things. She was only twenty years old, and she still clung to romantic ideas of love and life. She was often chastised by her middle-aged boss, Marie, who had been left at the altar and twice divorced.

"Real love does not exist!" she would often tell Madelyn, but she refused to believe it.

One night, while she was out as Miss Murder, she was cornered by a man with a baseball bat. The alley ended in a high brick wall and he blocked her only way out. She grasped her blade in her right hand, ready to stab and slice.

She heard laughter. "Put that thing away, girl, we just wanna talk to ya." An American drawl echoed slightly in the empty alleyway.

"Identify yourself and I just might." She remained strong, tried to appear nonchalant. Then she noticed that the man with the baseball bat wasn't the only one standing at the entrance anymore. There were at least five that she could see for sure. One stepped forward; she assumed he was the leader.

He chuckled again, stepping a few more paces closer, "Girlie, my name is Lieutenant Aldo Raine. You may know me better as Aldo the Apache and that there's the Bear Jew, wave to the girl Bear Jew." The one with the baseball bat waved. "Now are you gonna put away that knife or what?"

"Why, does it make you nervous?" she countered, earning a few laughs from Aldo's crew.

"Well in the presence of Miss Murder, it sure as hell does. See, I've seen your work. We all have, ain't that right, boys?" he came even closer, turning back to his men for support before swirling back and staring her straight in the eye, "And we're all big fans. See, we're in the killin' Nazi business too, and we wanted to propose a little proposition to ya."

"What kind of proposition?" she lowered her knife slightly.

"We want you to join us. We're headed west into Germany in a few days and we'd love to have ya on board. Join us." He said almost jovially.

"Who are you?"

"We're the Inglourious Basterds, and this is a once-in-a-lifetime offer, so I suggest you take it." The Apache leaned against a wall and lit a cigarette.

Madelyn pondered for a few brief moments before accepting. This could be her way behind enemy lines to save her brother, if she played her cards right.

"Fantastic. You, escort the lady home to gather her things, we move out at five AM sharp." Aldo turned his back to her and the Basterd with the baseball bat stepped forward.

"Wait, five AM? I thought you said a few days!" she protested as the Bear Jew got closer.

"I didn't want you to feel pressured, now scoot. Ya only got five hours to pack." And with that it was only the Bear Jew and Madelyn left in the alley.

She looked at him and sighed, "Follow me, I guess." She led him through the shadows back to her apartment, she opened the door and he stood outside.

"Come in, I don't bite." She said and he took a few tentative steps inside the door. He looked around while she frantically packed the small suitcase she hadn't touched in a year and a half.

"Where'd you get your knife? The one you killed all those Nazis with?" he asked suddenly, breaking the relative silence between them.

"It was my uncle's in the Great War. He died five years ago." She took it out of her pocket, gently handing it over for him to inspect. He judged its heft in his hand and looked it over before handing it back. She looked at it fondly, the cold steel hilt, dulled with age, slightly reflected the light and the shiny silver blade with his name engraved in it seemed to smile up at her after every slaying. She shook her head and slid it back into her pocket.

"Where'd you get that bat?" she asked, continuing to pack.

He brought it down off his shoulder, "My eighteenth birthday my dad bought it for me. It's a genuine Louisville Slugger. Once the Lieutenant found me and asked me to come over with him I had all my friends and neighbors sign it for good luck killin' Nazis." He caressed it, feeling over all the signatures as he had done so many times before.

"Why are all your friends and neighbors lucky? Were they all Irish?" she half-joked, emptying the third drawer into her suitcase.

"No, they're all Jewish." She stopped, remembering the real reason the masses were infuriated at the Nazis. She was out to get her brother back, but they were out to save their people, their religion, their way of life.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make light of your situation." She averted her eyes, focusing on her bag.

"Why? Ain't you Jewish, little Aryan girl?" he laughed, and then stopped, wondering something. "Why _are_ you killin' Nazis?"

"It's a long story." She still stared at her clothes, wondering if there would be enough room for all of it.

"We've got four and a half hours." He sat on the edge of her bed, awaiting her story like a child awaits a bedtime fairytale.

Madelyn sighed, "I was born and raised in Germany. My father, brother and I were all citizens, but my mother was not. She was British and once Hitler rose to power she took my brother and I back to England, leaving my father behind. Two years ago she fell very ill. The doctors said that she didn't have much time so my brother asked her what her final wish was. She said she wanted to see our father one last time, so Charles went back to Munich to find him. Our father had copies of his German papers, so he enlisted my brother in the German army. He is working near Oswiecim, Poland and after our grandparents died I came here to save him. One night I was attacked by a Nazi patrol and killed him. In that first death I felt one step closer to saving Charles. I am here to liberate him from the German army. That is why I kill Nazis."

"See? Wasn't that long." The Bear Jew smiled, but she didn't return it. She bit her lip to hold back tears at the thought of her brother. "Hey, I'm sorry. I promise I'll help you do whatever it takes to find your brother, but the Basterds come first. You understand?"

She nodded. They continued on in silence.


	3. Bunking Down

_Paris, France, July 1942_

She followed him to the designated meeting spot in a heavily wooded area about a mile outside of Paris. They were early, so the Bear Jew had started trying to guess her name.

"Jessica?" he guessed, although she had told him it didn't start with a J.

"Guess again." She sat perched on the hood of a stolen German truck, supposedly the one they were going to take out of France. It had three rows of seats and a rather large trunk, so she thought the drive out to Strasbourg wouldn't be horrible.

"Roberta?"

"Nope." She looked around the misty morning woods and got a chill.

"Am I at least getting close? What letter does it start with?" he was leaning against a tree, hat pulled down over his nose, baseball bat held tightly in his right hand.

"It starts with M-A." she gave him the first two letters because she was getting sick of this game.

"Mary?"

"Close but no cigar."

"Marie?"

"Still no cigar." She lay back on the chilly hood, throwing an arm over her eyes. The French summer breeze floated through the trees softly, the leaves rustled as the sunrise painted them all sorts of beautiful hues.

"Madelyn. Madelyn…now which do you prefer, Rowley or Amsel?" she heard the Lieutenant's voice and sat up, smoothing her skirt.

"Rowley. Amsel was my father's name." she took the Bear Jew's hand to help her down off the hood and thanked him.

"And why is that so bad?" Raine asked, tilting his head back slightly to look even more down upon her. At her full height she came to the lower part of his chin and she stared up at him indignantly.

"Because I hate my father." She swirled around him and picked up her suitcase. "Let's go, shall we? It's five AM, well, actually, its two minutes past."

"She's right, boys, everyone into the truck. Utivich, you're driving. Hirschberg, Stiglitz, hop in back. Girlie, Donowitz, Butz, you're in the middle. Ulmer, you ride with me and Utivich. If anyone has to piss, do it now, we ain't stoppin' till we get to Strasbourg." Raine announced before climbing into the passenger seat. Madelyn climbed in the middle with the Bear Jew on her right and Butz on her left.

It was cramped, but the gang of guerillas seemed to make it fit.

"Stiglitz? Hugo Stiglitz? _You're_ Hugo Stiglitz?" Madelyn managed to turn slightly in her seat so she could see over her shoulder to where her idol sat amidst all their luggage.

"Ja ist das mich." He answered in German because she asked in German, but she hadn't realized it. _"Yes, that's me."_

"_I believe our fathers knew each other."_ She said, but it came out, "Ich glaube, dass unsere Väter sich gekannt haben."

"Amsel, Ja erkenne ich den Namen." _Yes, I recognize the name._

"God Dammit! No more speakin' German, English only from here on out, got it?" Raine yelled from the front seat.

"Yes, Sir." Madelyn apologized.

Butz leaned over to her, "Ich spreche Deutsch auch." _I speak German too._

"The FUCK did I just say, Butz?" Raine twisted violently in his seat, pulling a muscle in his back. He cringed in pain as he turned back, muttering "Fuckin' Krauts."

They reached Strasbourg by eleven AM and found a nice dark part of the woods to camp in. They unloaded the truck, haphazardly throwing their things on the ground.

"Utivich and I are goin' into town, you know the drill." Raine ducked back into the truck with Utivich behind the wheel and they peeled away, disappearing into the woods.

"What drill?" she asked the Bear Jew, who was unloading a canvas tent from his bag.

"We set up camp while they're gone. You know how to work an axe?" he asked her. She nodded, unsure of the real answer.

"Then go help Stiglitz chop some firewood." And he set about pitching a tent, which was what most of them seemed to be doing.

Stiglitz, when she walked over, nodded to an extra axe leaning against a tree. She took it and, after watching Stiglitz demonstrate, tried it. The axe was heavier than she expected and it dropped out of her hands before she could get it over her head. Stiglitz laughed, then showed her where to put her hands. Her next few tries were successful, and after an hour her arms and back were completely numb. Stiglitz took over; dismissing her to go help the others do various other tasks.

She walked over to where the Bear Jew had pitched his tent. His feet were sticking out of it and she brushed past, finding her suitcase lying under a nearby tree. She found a comfortable position leaning back against the tree and used the suitcase as a footrest, slowly allowing herself to drift to sleep.

She was awakened by the Lieutenant. "Hey! Wake up! You're bunkin' with the Bear Jew tonight." She looked around and noticed that the sun was much lower on the horizon, which meant that it was almost night.

"Here's your bedroll, don't lose it." Raine threw a bundle at her and she caught it before moving her things over to the tent. His feet were no longer sticking out, she poked her head in and saw him legs bent with a book propped up on them.

"What do you want?" he asked in his strangely accented voice.

"Boss says I'm sleeping in here tonight." She reported. He wasted no time in storming out of the tent to find Aldo. Meanwhile, she moved her stuff in, laid out her bedroll, and used an extra blanket to form a barrier between their two sides of the tent.

She glanced over at his side of the tent, the book he had been reading was cast to the far side of his bedroll, but she could still see the title. _A Tale of Two Cities _by Charles Dickens. It was her favorite.

Later they all sat around a large fire. Aldo and Utivich had returned from town with about a three-day supply of food and they were now cooking some sort of meat product. Darkness had fallen and except for the fire it was completely dark in the surrounding woods.

Once they had all choked down the meat-like substance that Aldo had given them he doused the fire and told everyone to go to sleep. "We got a big day ahead of us." And he went to his tent.

The Bear was already in the tent when she entered, kicking off her boots and lying down. The thin bedroll was enough to keep her warm, but she could still feel the hard earth underneath. She turned towards the opposite wall, away from him and he continued reading.

She was almost asleep when he broke the silence, "You haven't tried to guess my name."

"What?" she rolled over and faced him, although she couldn't see him in the pitch blackness.

"Well, you don't think my parents named me The Bear Jew, did ya?" she could tell from his tonality that he was smiling.

"No. Andrew?" she guessed, thinking of the first name that came to mind.

"Nope."

"Jack?" she was trying to think of stereotypical American names.

"No."

"Jimmy?"

"Nu-uh."

"I give up. I'm too tired for this." She said, turning her back to him again thinking the conversation was over.

"It's Donny…Donny Donowitz." He said gently. The words were almost whispered, but in the close quarters of the tent reached her perfectly.

"Donny…it suits you." She said, finally letting herself fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	4. Beat Down

Madelyn awoke the next morning, but didn't open her eyes at first. She felt a warm presence behind her and a slight weight pressing on her waist. When she opened her eyes she realized that Donny was snuggled up close behind her. They were like two spoons in a drawer, and she could feel his hot sleepy breath on the back of her neck.

"Donny?" she said, her voice growing tight. "Donny?" she was only being polite about this for so long. "Donny?" she asked again, but got no response. She balled up her fists, raised them high and aimed at just the right angle to hit his lowest few ribs with her elbow. This earned her a response.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he exclaimed as he sat up, rubbing his abdomen.

"Why were you snuggled up behind me?" she asked just as indignantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I asked you first."

"I had to get you off me _somehow_, didn't I?"

"I had to stay warm _somehow_, didn't I?" he mimicked. She glared at him through narrow eyes. After a short staring contest, she rose and stormed out of the tent. It was just before sunrise and chilly. A few other Basterds were out and about. Hirschberg and Stiglitz had started another fire and were making coffee and some small breakfast. The smell of coffee shot her straight back to Paris, so she walked away, sitting just over the peak of a nearby hill, looking out on the rest of the forest.

"Rough night?" Utivich asked from behind, handing her a small tin mug of coffee. She thanked him and he sat down next to her.

"You could say that." She took a sip and let the hot, bitter liquid slide down her throat.

"Yeah, Donny isn't exactly the easiest to get along with. I think that's why the Lieutenant put you in with him."

Madelyn laughed slightly, "That would make sense…talk about hazing, right?" Utivich smiled.

"Why do you use a knife?" he asked almost embarrassed. It felt like a stupid question, but he had to know. He had never seen that much blood come from so few cuts.

"It's what I had on me, quieter than a gun, and it makes those Nazi Fucks suffer." She had clearly thought this through.

"Why are you after them?" he might as well get all Aldo's much-desired answers for him.

She stood, taking the final sip of coffee out of the cup, "They have my brother." And she walked away.

* * *

Utivich entered Aldo's tent. A layer of cigarette smoke had risen to the peak already and Aldo was still laying down with his arm over his eyes, a fresh cig poking out between his lips.

"What, Utivich?" he asked in his Southern accent, the cigarette bouncing.

"You wanted to know why Madelyn was killing Nazis, right?" he asked, dangling the answer in front of his boss's face like a dog treat.

He sat up. "What'd you find out?" he tapped the ashes off the end of the cigarette casually.

"She's killing them because they have her brother." Utivich said, a proud look on his face.

"What the fuck does that mean? They have her brother? As a prisoner or something else?"

Utivich's face showed pure unknowing. Raine stood as erect as he could in the tent and looked him in the face.

"If you're goin' to interrupt my personal reflection time it better be somethin' damn important. Now I'll thank you to stay away from the girl. I'll extract the necessary information when the time is right." He lay back down, replacing his arm and waving to Utivich, effectively dismissing him.

This only further proved the point that, if you are going to speak to Aldo Raine, you must have all the facts.

* * *

She returned to the tent and found Donny reading again. He looked up at her and asked, "What the hell do you want?"

"Look, about last night…no harm, no fowl." She said apologetically. "Also, I'm sorry about elbowing you in the ribs. You'll probably have a bruise there."

"It's nothin' I can't handle. I've had worse." He shrugged her off, which she found infuriating.

"Right. Just remember the second you get frisky is the second you earn yourself a deep-woods castration."

"What? I thought your expertise was murder." He scoffed arrogantly.

After staring him down she came back with, "You aren't the only ones that leave Nazis alive."

His face blanched when he caught her meaning and she left the tent once again. Outside, it was quiet. The crackling of the fire had died down and the sun was almost completely up in the east. Faint laughter was coming from off to her right where some of the boys were wrestling; their guns leaned up against the tree. Off to her left she heard a crack, like the snap of a twig under a jackboot.

She pulled her knife out of her pocket and pressed her back to the stiff bark of the nearest tree. Her knife was in stab position and clutched tightly to her chest. She heard footsteps that were getting closer and closer. She spun around, driving the knife downward, but her wrist was caught by none other than Aldo Raine.

"Damn, Girlie, you _are_ a jumpy one. I like that. Makes ya more aware." He gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her so their faces were inches apart.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you, Sir." He smiled and let go. She rubbed her wrist, putting her knife away.

"I was out scoutin' around. Found a band of Nazis headin' this way. Follow me." He motioned to her, heading over to the group of men that, by now, Donny had joined.

"Grab your guns and line the road, we got ourselves some Jew Killers, boys!" he interrupted. The group immediately dispersed, each man scrambling for his respective weapon. Aldo lead them through the slowly disappearing shadows until they came upon a bridge going over another road. Madelyn could hear the slow approach of the Nazi's vehicle as she crouched behind the bridge's railing with the other Basterds, knife at the ready.

"Come on, Girlie." Raine grabbed the back of her collar and pulled her with him across the rest of the bridge and down the embankment behind some bushes. "Hirschberg is goin' to take out the driver from the bridge. Me an' Ulmer are goin' to clear out the car and you, my dear, are goin' to prove yourself. I will point to a Nazi Fucker and you don't hold back, just kill the Kraut an' show me how it's done. Got it?" he said hurriedly, for the truck was in sight.

"Yes Sir." Her voice wavered and she was clearly nervous. She didn't expect that she'd be killing when she woke up this morning, but she was ready for it.

"Don't worry, just think of your brother." He said, peeking through the tall grass. Before Madelyn could respond a gunshot sounded, glass broke and Raine was up and over the bushes. For being so old (late thirties was what Maddie had guessed), he was quite agile.

The truck was cleared out and the Nazis were on their knees, hands behind their heads when Raine motioned for her to come out. He paced around the Nazi prisoners and picked one toward the end of the line, a pretty Aryan boy probably no more than her age.

"Go to it, Girlie." He said, lifting up the Aryan and sort of tossing him over to her. The boy stood bolt straight, knowing this was his time.

Madelyn circled him, eyeing his uniform. He was surprisingly decorated for a youngster. The one decoration she saw the clearest was on his upper left arm. She slid her knife between his arm and the band, slicing through it quick as lightning. She held the red cloth in her hand, looking it over for a moment before shoving it in his mouth. She circled him a few more times to keep him off balance, then on the third circle drove her knife into his back. He crumpled, and muffled screams of pain could be heard as she jabbed her knife into his back again and again until the pool around her feet was rather large.

"Sind Sie tot noch, Nazi?" she bent down and whispered in his ear before putting her boot through his skull.

Donny watched the scene unfold intently. He wanted to see Miss Murder in action. Once Raine gave her the tow-headed Nazi boy she circled him and a completely different person emerged. It was like Madelyn ceased to exist. She tore off his swastika armband with her knife and shoved it in his mouth. She then paced around him more, like a bird of prey about to strike.

When she did, she showed her power. That first stab sent the boy to the ground, and would have been enough to kill him. All the subsequent ones were out of pure rage, and Donny could see it on her face. She leaned down to the boy's ear and said something in German, then crushed his head with the heel of her boot.

Donny asked Hirschberg what she had said as Aldo praised the girl.

"Are you dead yet, Nazi." Hirschberg replied.

"_Shit. This girl…"_ Donny thought to himself, following his fellow Basterds down to the road to finish the job Madelyn had started.


	5. Bloodied Up

Madelyn was washing the blood off her boots in a nearby stream when Donny found her. She heard him coming and looked up, grabbing her knife instinctively. He must've been given a Nazi as well, for he was covered in blood. As was his bat. He knelt next to her and dipped the bloody club into the stream, using his hand to make sure all of the blood was removed.

She couldn't help but glance over at him every few seconds, curious as to how much blood was left on his clothing. The front of his shirt and pants were almost soaked, and the stains would set if they dried. She put down her boots and rose to her feet, trying to pull his shirt over his eyes.

"The hell do you think you're doin'?" he asked, also standing. He looked down at her with a look of shock and slight disgust.

"We have to rinse out the blood or it'll stain. Give me your shirt. Pants too."

"Oh no, not on your life-" he started, but Madelyn indignantly interrupted him.

"Fine. Walk through the streets of Germany with giant red targets on you. You go walking like that, you'll give yourself away in an instant." She crossed her arms and started him down. He considered, and after a moment of contemplation pulled off his shirt. He made sure to do it slowly in hopes of seducing her, and she noticed with a roll of her eyes.

She took the shirt from his outstretched hand and dipped it in the stream, rubbing at the large red stain until most of it was gone. He had already deposited his pants next to her and she tossed his sopping shirt back to him before getting to work on the pants. They were harder because of the coarser material, but eventually she got most of the blood out. She tossed them back to him, smiling when she heard the smack of a wet pant leg hitting a face, and picking up her boots to head back to camp. Though not before she stopped to admire Donny's well-formed chest as he peeled the pant leg off his face.

"Wait, what about me?" he asked, holding his wet clothes on outstretched arms.

"I suggest you head back. Nights get cold around here." She said while walking away, throwing him a smug smile over her shoulder as she did.

"Bitch." He said, struggling to pull on his wet pants and shirt. He was very uncomfortable as he headed back to camp. He had half a mind to rough her up a bit as punishment, but Raine wouldn't be too happy with that. Especially not now since she had proven herself as psychotic of a killer as The Bear Jew.

He was about fifty yards behind her the whole way back, and he was surprised at how quickly she went from Miss Murder back to sweet little Madelyn. Not that Madelyn was sweet in the slightest, but still, she had some redeeming qualities. Like her pretty face. Or her body. She was a major morale booster for all the Basterds, that was for damn sure. However, the Lieutenant had made it damn clear that if any harm that came to her, he would personally deliver the one responsible to the Nazis and let them have their way with the guilty party.

That didn't stop them from talking about it. The only one that hadn't participated in their "what it would be like to doink Madelyn" talk was Utivich, but everyone was sure he was gay for Raine. Donny, they figured, had the best chance seeing as how he shared a tent with her. Next was Raine, because of the power, and then Stiglitz because of his Nazi-killing history. She seemed to like Nazi Killers.

* * *

When she got back into camp, she was immediately pulled into Raine's tent and sat down before him. Raine offered her a cigarette and she accepted it, taking the match that was held out to her.

"That was impressive today." Raine blew a smoke ring and leaned back in his chair.

"Thanks, but that was nothing out of the ordinary…Sir, how did you know about my brother?" she asked, twirling the match and cigarette in her fingers.

"Utivich told me, although he was hazy on the details. That's why I pulled you in here, Girlie. Spill it." He tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette and folded his arms, expecting her to continue.

"Where should I start?" she asked herself more than Raine. She took a deep breath before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper.

"My brother was enlisted in the German Army by my father. He owned a stationary shop and, as a side job, forged official German documents. Passports, visas, birth certificates, you get it. When my mother moved my brother and me back to England, I guess my father made copies of our German papers and kept them. My brother went back to retrieve him and now he's in Poland working in some sort of camp… And that's the jist of it, I guess." She was gripping the sides of the chair she was in tightly.

After a moment of pondering Raine asked her, "Where's your father live?"

"Munich."

"Then that's the next stop, Girlie. I have a bone to pick with your Daddy."

"Let me at him first." She stood up quickly, begging him.

"You have to promise to leave him alive." Aldo tapped the ashes off again, looking as nonchalant as could be.

"Yes. I promise."

"In fair condition?" he moistened his lip and looked up at her, a grin on his face that she would have loved to smack off.

She gritted her teeth, "Yes."

"You're dismissed." He nodded her towards the door. She left in a huff, returning to her and Donny's tent. She laid on her bedroll, steam nearly coming out of her ears with anger. After all her father had done, the Lieutenant expected her to leave him _alive_? Did he know who she was? What she was capable of? She turned towards Donny's sleeping bag and saw that he left out _Tale of Two Cities. _

She picked it up and started reading it for what must've been the thousandth time. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…"

She got to chapter five before Donny interrupted her.

"You missed dinner. Aldo's puttin' out the fire in a few minutes." He informed her. Her only response was to nod and keep reading.

After an uncomfortable silence on his part, Donny asked, "Have you read it before?" she nodded again. More silence. "Did you like it?"

"Yes. My uncle used to read it to me before bed. It's my favorite book." She finally spoke, although her voice was soft as a kitten's purr. Donny lay down and peeked at what page she was on.

"I like it too. I just don't understand what's up with that fruitcake Sydney Carton." Maddie sat up, staring at him angrily.

"Sydney Carton _is not _a fruitcake. He sacrifices his life to save Charles Darnay so Lucie can be happy. That's _honorable_, not fruity."

"Yeah, it's also the pansy way out."

"Pansy?" she was shocked.

"Well, yeah. He lives this shitty life pining away for a woman that married a man that looks exactly like him. Rather than fight for her, he rolls over and lets the guy she married live while he gets what he wants by dying. He's a wuss and a pansy." Donny had sat up by this point, too. She stared at him incredulously before storming out of the tent a few moments later.

"Girlie! Hold up a second." Raine called after her as she was heading down to the stream.

"What do you want?" she asked in a tight voice.

"We're moving out tonight, heading for Munich." He paused to spit in the dirt by his feet, "spread the word."

"Will do, Sir." She bobbed her head in a nod, forcing herself to swallow her pride and go back to the tent to tell Donny. About ten yards away from it she decided to save him for last, diverting her steps to Utivich and Hirschberg's tent. Next it was Ulmer and Wicki, then Stiglitz.

"We're heading out as soon as it gets dark." She informed him, poking her head in.

"Where are we going?" he asked, keeping his serious gaze on the ceiling.

"Munich. To find my father." He only grunted in response. She left the tent and headed back to her own. She lifted the flap and saw that Donny was already rolling his sleeping bag and packing away his few belongings.

"You heard?" she asked.

"That we're goin' to reunite you with your estranged daddy? Yeah, I heard." He said, continuing to roll.

After a silence she did the same, while adding, "Fuck you, Donny."


	6. Bayern, Baby

Maddie didn't remember when she fell asleep, and when she woke up she found that her head was resting on Donny's shoulder. It was dark out and she could hear various volumes of snores coming from some of her cohorts. She looked up at Donny, who was smiling down at her.

"Mornin' Sunshine." He said and she lifted her head up.

"What time is it?" she asked, sleep still evident in her voice.

"About three AM, we're almost there." He informed her and she nodded. She stretched out her back as best she could in the crowded truck and ran a hand through her blonde hair. She looked around, but in the darkness couldn't see who was driving. In fact, she was having a hard time seeing Donny, who sat on her right and possibly Wicki that was on her left?

Up ahead she saw lights. The lights of her ex-home town. Suddenly she started shaking, her nerves getting the best of her.

Donny felt her shaking and put a comforting hand on her knee. The shaking sort of subsided. She wasn't sure of his intentions with this gesture, and her hand went to her knife. They entered the city and whoever was driving maneuvered them to the front of an abandoned building.

"Everybody out." Raine's voice came from the front seat. Each Basterd grumblingly stumbled out of the truck and filed silently into the building.

* * *

It was 11:36 PM when Madelyn led Raine, Stiglitz, Hirschberg and Donowitz through the black German night to her former place of residence. Her father's stationery shop was dark and she peeked through the window. From the looks of it, it hadn't been requisitioned by the German army for anything. She took a few paces to her right and ducked down the alley. Behind the building she found the key to the door. It was in the exact same place it had been for her entire childhood, under the flowerpot that sat under the lamp.

She unlocked the door and crept up the stairs, not knowing or caring if the four men she led were still behind her. The apartment door was unlocked and she stuck her head inside. He was sitting at the kitchen table with his back facing her one room away. She slid in and stalked over to him, grabbing a fistful of his graying hair and jerking his head back when she was near enough. She pressed the cool knife blade to his neck and smiled down at him menacingly.

"Hallo Zeugt. Haben Sie mich verpasst?" she asked him if he had missed her. She didn't wait for a response and continued in German, "I didn't miss you. My boss needs a word with you, and you will say yes to whatever he asks or so help me I will make you wish you were dead. Got it?" he nodded as best he could with his head cocked back.

"Raine." She called, shoving his head forward as Raine and the other three man tromped into the room. Their boots made a lovely thudding sound as they crossed into the dark kitchen.

Raine sat down across from him. "You speak English?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Now, Mr. Amsel, you're daughter has informed us of a special talent that you have that would be very ad-van-tageous to our little outfit." Raine started, elbows on the table with his fingers steepled.

"Who are you and what are you doing with Madelyn?" Alarik asked before he could continue.

"My name is Aldo Raine, more commonly known as Aldo the Apache." Amsel's face blanched with recognition. "So you know of me?" Alarik nodded.

"You're the Basterds. I've heard talk of you in my shop. It is frequented by Nazis buying paper for their offices. Now which one of you is the one called 'Bear Jew'?" her father smiled widely and scanned each one, finally turning to Maddie. "Maybe it is you, dear daughter? I would pay to see you wielding a baseball bat. Or for that matter, be Jewish." He laughed and turned back.

Donny stepped forward. "I'm the Bear Jew. Your daughter is Miss Murder; perhaps you've heard her by her Kraut name _Fraulein Mord_?"

"Es dieses wahre, Tochter?" he turned and asked Madelyn, who forcefully turned his head forward again.

"Yes, it is. Shut up and pay attention."

"Now we need you to forge us some German papers." Raine took charge of the conversation again, "Three documents per person, birth certificate, ID card, and a German passport. There are eight of us, including your daughter. Twenty-four documents in all. How long are we talkin'?"

"Birth certificates and ID cards are nothing, a week for all of them, but most likely less. Passports are another thing entirely."

"You sayin' you can't do it?" Aldo asked.

"Oh, I can do it, it'll just take longer." Amsel was leaning back in his chair practically bragging about his talent.

"How much longer?"

"About two weeks. So, we're looking at about three weeks total. Now, about my payment-"

"Yeah, your payment is you get to keep your life. But, by the looks of it, that might not be incentive enough." Aldo glanced around the small, dirty apartment with disdain.

Her father scoffed, "You forget that I have Nazis in my store every day. I could, perhaps, slip up and tell them about our arrangement."

Aldo laughed loudly, "HA! I get it, you want hush money. Well in addition to your life, you'll get some bodyguards that'll make sure you don't slip up. But, in case you do, here's ten Nazi marks for your trouble. Girlie, Donny, you're stayin' here."

Donny seemed okay with it, but Maddie was furious. She didn't sign on to this mission to babysit her father for three weeks. She opened her mouth to protest but her father was already ushering her to her old room. Raine, Stiglitz, and Hirschberg were gone within seconds with a promise to deliver their things the next night.

"You can have your old room back, Madelyn! I left it just the way you did!" her father was acting more like a smothering grandmother, bustling about and gushing over her presence.

"What about Donny?" she asked, bringing the Bear Jew to his attention. Donny smiled wickedly at him, waving his bat. "He can have Charles' bed?" she assumed. Her father swelled with rage.

"No dirty Jew _schweine _will _ever_ sleep in my son's bed! Much less in such close proximity to my daughter!" he half-yelled at her. Seconds later, he was sandwiched between her knife and the wall.

"If you ever call him that again, I will not hesitate in killing you. You will treat him with as much respect as you do me for the duration of our stay, do you understand?" Her father nodded, impressed by the force she exerted on his chest. "Now, Donny will stay in my room with me or _you_ will share his bed."

She backed away from her father and motioned for Donny to follow her. Her father hadn't lied, the room was exactly the same way she and Charles had left it eight years prior. The wallpaper had yellowed with age, but hers and Charles' pictures were still there. She touched one of Clark Gable that hung above her bed. She had stolen her mother's reddest lipstick and kissed it before hanging it. Those had been much simpler times. She longed for them as she was swept under a wave of nostalgia.

"Got a thing for older guys?" Donny broke her reverie. She turned to face him.

"No, just Clark." She smiled, sitting on the bed that let out a long, high-pitched squeak as she did.

"How old are you, anyway?" Donny asked, propping the bat up between his bed and night stand.

"Twenty-one in November, you?" she swung up her legs and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

"Twenty-six. April birthday. April 17th." He sat on his bed, "So how are we going to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Watch your father 24 hours a day."

"I think I should take the day shift, since I'm well…not…"

"Jewish, just say it."

"Jewish. And I know him better. I can work in the shop with him, watch him there and you can watch him at night when he sleeps." She had already thought this through. "Although, I think I could handle him on my own, I don't know why Raine stuck you here too."

"Maybe I'm here to make sure you don't kill him before the job's done." He smiled to himself, knowing full well that was exactly the reason he was there. Raine would've left Stiglitz or Hirschberg, but Donny was the one that she got along with best-, the one she trusted most-…well, he was the one she wanted to kill the least. It would be easier for him to control her if she flew off the handle.

"Yeah, maybe. So do you want to start tonight?" she asked. Donny stood and stretched.

"Yeah, I'll go put him to bed." It was as if he was putting a child to sleep rather than a Nazi-worshipping German shopkeeper.

"If he gives you any crap feel free to smack him around a bit." She called after him, draping an arm over her eyes.

Donny walked down the tiny hall to where her father was standing in the kitchen, finishing his bedtime tea. Donny strode over to him, hand outstretched.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Donny Donowitz-"

"No you're not. You're the filthy Jew that has been _ficken _my daughter. I should kill you for that." Alarik Amsel accused, smacking his hand aside.

"_Ficken_ her? Sir, I've never-"

"I can see it in the way she looks at you, _Schweine_, don't try to deny it."

"I've never touched her, I swe-…never mind. Believe whatever, old man, I'm just here to keep an eye on you and make sure Maddie in there doesn't kill you." Donny leaned against the door frame.

"I'm going to bed." Alarik Amsel announced, padding over to his bedroom and slamming the door. He stayed there the rest of the night while Donny sat on the couch in the living area, pondering what the old man meant by "I see it in the way she looks at you" into the long hours of the night.


	7. Back Home

Her father shook her awake the next morning. "Get up, Madelyn, today you rejoin Germany!" he shouted at her excitedly.

Madelyn sat up, rubbing her eyes and stretching. "Where's Donny?" she asked, curious as to where her partner was.

"On the couch. Now today, you will come down and work in the shop with me. It's the middle of the month so today should be plenty busy. If anyone asks, you went to art school in Paris, and then decided to stay there for the last four years." He flurried about the room, opening the curtains which sent dust flying.

"But I've been gone for eight years." She blocked the sun's vicious rays with her forearm, propping herself up on her elbow.

Her father ripped the sheets off of her, which brought her straight back to childhood. "You were at another school in Austria for four years before that." He had clearly been thinking about ways to explain her eight-year absence to his German peers and superiors for quite some time. He reached into the drawer of her night stand and retrieved papers that proved it. There were transcripts, letters of praise and a few demerit letters from both of the imaginary schools. She glance them over and, to the untrained eye, they looked legitimate. She nodded, handing them back to her father.

"Very well then. What time does the shop open?" she asked, glancing at the small clock on the wall next to the door. It was a few minutes past seven thirty AM.

"Eight o'clock, same as it always has been. I'll go open up now. And, one more thing," he said, half in and half out the door, "you will behave as a polite citizen of the Reich. Greet people with a 'heil Hitler' and such."

She gritted her teeth and nodded. She would have to obey the rules of the Reich, as ridiculous as they were, until her mission was over. Then she could go back to being Madelyn, not 'Mat-lynn' as her father pronounced it. At least she had Donny here to tie her down to what she really was. That was a strange thought, but it was true.

She looked in the ancient mirror over the child-sized vanity table and scowled. Her blonde locks had flipped out at the ends in the night, as it often did. She would just wear it back today, she figured. Her two-day-old makeup was staring her in the face, making her look like the village whore. She did her best to wipe most of it off and decided for a more natural look by pinching her cheeks and licking her lips. She heaved a sigh and left the room.

Donny was sitting on the couch, splayed out like he was a ragdoll a careless young girl had dropped there.

"Mornin'." He greeted, turning toward her as she entered the room.

"I can't do this. I can't pretend to be one of them." She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back against the wall.

"You have to. Just keep your head down and don't talk to anyone. I would volunteer to go for you, but I've been up all night and well, look at me." He stood and gestured to himself with both hands. "I reek of Judaism."

She half-smiled. "The room's free. Stay away from the windows and don't move around too much. Remember that there are Nazis coming in and out of the store all day. Try to get some sleep, I'll be back by six." She pushed herself off the wall and grabbed his hat, swinging it onto her head as she exited the apartment.

He smiled to himself as he wobbled down the hall to the bedroom, falling onto the bed and finally letting sleep overcome him.

* * *

The shop not only looked the same, it smelled the same. Like pipe tobacco and fresh reams of paper, with a hint of old newsprint and, oddly enough, lavender. Her father turned the sign to 'OPEN' and she took her place behind the counter.

"Everything is where it was, do you remember-"

"Yes, I remember where everything is." She insisted, and it was true. She knew exactly where each type of pen tip was, where the ink was stored, and each type of paper they carried. When paper and ink is your whole childhood, you tend not to forget it.

"And speak German for Christ's sake! You'll give yourself away faster than France surrendered! HA!" he laughed at his own bad joke, although it was true.

"_Ja_, papa." She said, remaining dutifully behind the counter.

The first customers were some low-ranking officers, no doubt made to run an errand for a superior. Towards noontime, a man wearing an SS uniform walked through the door. Her father's face lit up with recognition.

"Hans Landa! What brings you to Munich, my friend?" he shook the man's hand as Madelyn got a better look at him. He had brown hair, graying a little at the temples. He carried himself with an almost vicious confidence, which was understandable seeing how many decorations he had on his chest.

"I'm only in town for a few days, I'm afraid. I just got back from France and now they've got me running around Poland. That comes with the job, though. My bookkeepers, however, seemed to have misplaced our last few reams of paper and a few ledgers and I thought who better to assist me with this predicament than the great Alarik Amsel, paper supplier to the Third Reich!" this Landa guy was fluffing her father's ego with professional skill. She smirked and kept her head down so as hopefully not to draw attention to herself.

"Colonel, you are too kind! And of course I can help you, how much do you need?" her father asked, heading toward her behind the counter.

"Alarik, who is this lovely creature?" Landa had most definitely noticed her and was striding over, shiny boots thudding with each step. She cursed herself for leaving her knife upstairs.

"Oh, how rude of me! Colonel Hans Landa, this is my daughter, Madelyn Amsel. She's been away for quite some time and has just returned to me." Her father pulled her close to him with one arm around her shoulders and she looked up at the Colonel, smiling at him. Now that he was closer, Madelyn could see that he was quite handsome in an alarming sort of way.

"Pleasure to meet you, Colonel." She said in flawless German.

"The pleasure, my dear, is all mine." He took her hand, brushing his lips on her knuckles for a mere second. Maddie thought she would throw up despite his good looks. He was SS, a division of the Nazi Party that was damn near above the law. From the way he looked around the shop, he was a detective of high stature. When he looked back to her, she could see that he was calculating, deducing, which was what he did best.

"Now, about your order?" her father was anxious to make a big sale. Landa dropped her hand and she resisted the urge to gnaw it off.

"Yes, I'll be needing four reams of your best paper, two ledgers and a set of fine new pen tips." Landa smiled. It made him look boyish and added to his charm.

In seconds Alarik had assembled the order. Landa paid and, as he was leaving the shop, turned back around to address Madelyn.

"I'll be seeing you both at the burning tonight, yes?" he fixed his cold brown-grey eyes on Maddie, who nodded, slightly confused.

The bell above the door tinkled as it shut and she turned to her father, "What burning?"

"It's a burning of all things that go against the teachings of the Reich. Books, pamphlets, letters, anything that will burn. There is a big one tonight in front of the town hall at eight," Suddenly, without provocation, he changed the subject, "I think Hans was quite taken with you." A sly smile spread across his lips.

She could only roll her eyes, "So you think that because some SS Colonel is 'quite taken with me' I'll abruptly convert to a Hitler-worshipping Reich maiden and marry him? Father, I've killed men for less."

"Hans Landa isn't just a Colonel, he's the _Jew Hunter_." Her father said this with a large dose of Admiration in his voice.

"The what?"

"They say he can find all Jews within a five kilometer radius of him within a few hours. That is why he is so decorated." Madelyn was not impressed. Her eyes wandered upward to the Jew that was hiding in the apartment upstairs. Hopefully, Landa hadn't noticed anything to suggest he was up there.

Hopefully.

* * *

She returned upstairs and informed Donny of the burning that was to take place in a little under two hours.

"I want to go." He said, standing from his spot on the bed. The window behind him showed the sun lowering in the sky, making the shadows in the room grow longer.

"No, I can handle this on my own. Like you said, you reek of Judaism." He smiled at her joke. "And besides, I met an SS Colonel today."

"Oh you did, did ya?" he asked, laying back down on his side, setting himself up on one elbow. "Was he cute?" he teased.

"He was. His name is Hans Landa or something like that." She said casually, sitting at the small vanity, trying to figure out what to do with her hair.

His bed creaked as he sat bolt upright. "Hans Landa? He's here?"

"You know him?" she turned around.

"Raine has been wanting to meet that sonofabitch since he first heard of him. He's good, from what we've seen and heard. I gotta tell him that he's here." He got up and went for the door, but she stood in his way.

"He's coming here with our things tonight, you can tell him then. I don't think you realize how dangerous it is for you to leave the apartment. If they catch you, Donny, you will be killed." She had her hands on his chest, eyes pleading with him.

He smiled smugly, "You really care about me that much, huh?" She realized that she was basically begging him not to die and pushed away from him.

"Fuck you, Donny." She said as she turned back around looking incredibly embarrassed.


	8. Burning Baisers

The air was full of frenetic energy. Nazi flags hung from every window. People carrying cartfuls of books all headed to the town square where the historic town hall sat forebodingly. It had always scared Madelyn with its Gothic façade, and now was even more intimidating with the red, black and white Nazi flag stretched from the top to just above the front entrance.

"Hurry, Madelyn, we don't want to keep the Colonel waiting." She could tell that her father was set on making the match, although she and Landa had only spoken for a few brief moments and her father underestimated her hatred for the Nazi Party. He had clearly not heard enough about the carnage of Miss Murder.

Maybe she'd get the chance to show him.

She could only hope.

He laid out the blanket about twenty yards from the growing mound of literature. For such an enthusiast of paper, her father had always loved to see it burn. She could see the anticipation grow like ivy on his face. Some local Nazi official spoke briefly, and then the fire was lit. It was amazing how the crowd's cheers seemed to make the books burn faster. Madelyn was fascinated.

"_Herr_ Amsel, _Fraulein _Amsel, nice to see you again." A familiar voice said from behind them. Alarik greeted Landa with a bone-crushing handshake and Landa kissed Madelyn's hand again, looking up at her with his grey-brown eyes that sparkled in the firelight.

Madelyn looked around while Landa and her father talked about something she had no interest in and caught sight of Aldo Raine. He was undercover and, when he saw her, he nodded.

"Herr Amsel, I was wondering if I could speak to your lovely daughter alone." Landa said and her attention snapped back. She could barely hear him over the roar of the crowd and almost asked him to move someplace else, but she needed to stay where Raine could find her.

"Of course! I see an old drinking buddy of mine; maybe I'll go get a pint or two. Have fun." Alarik said, slipping into the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Raine intercept her father and herd him somewhere. Landa motioned for them to sit and she did, tucking her legs under her daintily.

"Madelyn," he pronounced it right, which shocked her, "that's how you prefer it pronounced, right? Not Mat-lynn, as your father says? I much prefer it Mad-e-lyn, myself. That way you hear all the syllables. It sounds prettier too, does you more justice." he said, staring at her in the firelight. He looked incredibly handsome as the light flickered on the structures of his face.

"Colonel Landa-"

"Please, just Hans." He interrupted, putting a hand on hers. It was awfully warm for a man with such a cold heart.

"Hans, then. What is it that you do, exactly?" She put on her clueless face and looked at him innocently, like a fawn lost in the woods. She had to practically yell so he heard her.

"Ahh, you've heard my nickname. The Jew Hunter," she nodded and he continued, his hand still resting on hers, "It's simple really. I travel all over the Reich and ferret out hiding Jews. I just spent a year in France, where I found about 600 of them. They were all promptly killed. Now I'm off to find them in Poland." He was so nonchalant about it she wanted to kill him right then and there.

"Will that take you away for another year?" she asked, feigning sadness. She surprised herself with how good of an actress she was. For added effect she flipped her hand over and held his tightly.

Landa laughed, "No, it will only be ten months. Why, will you miss me?"

"Miss you, Colonel, I only just met you!" and they both laughed. He pulled his hand from hers and reached for a round gold pin on his shirt with the Nazi swastika in the middle. He unpinned it and handed it to her.

"Something to remember me by." He said as she took it out of his hand, staring at it incredulously. Without warning, he kissed her cheek and she gasped, putting her fingers to where his lips had just grazed her skin.

"And now, my dear, I must go. The burning is only a small bit of my itinerary for tonight." He stood and offered his hand to help her up. She took it and allowed him to pull her up.

"More Jews in hiding?" she asked, slightly nervous about his answer.

"No, paperwork. Being gone for a year piles up a lot of it." He smiled and said goodbye, kissing her cheek again. It wasn't until he was out of sight that Raine dared bring her father close again. He stood behind her and whispered in her ear for only a moment.

"Meet us back at the apartment. Now." And he escorted her already drunk father away.

She gathered up the blanket and looked around; making sure no one was watching her. No one was, so she slipped away into the night.

* * *

Back at the apartment, Donny had just finished _A Tale of Two Cities_ for the fourth time in his life. He still thought Sydney Carton was a wuss.

"Donny." Raine's voice echoed through the apartment. He also heard slurred German, most likely from Madelyn's father. Donny put the book down and walked out to the living room as Raine dropped Amsel onto the couch.

Moments later, Maddie entered the apartment, looking flushed like she had just run all the way back. Raine was on her within seconds.

"Who the fuck were you talkin' to Girlie? Got yourself a fuckin' Nazi boyfriend that you're spillin' all our secrets to, huh?" Raine asked violently, bringing out his gun and pointing it at the bridge of her nose. Donny looked at her, a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

Maddie was cool as a cucumber. "Have you ever heard the name Hans Landa?" she smiled and crossed her arms in front of her.

"_That_ was Hans Landa? The Jew Hunter? The Jew Hunter was the one making googly eyes at you?" Raine asked and Donny only became more confused.

"Yes it was. And look at this," she produced the pin from her pocket, holding it out for them to see, "he said it was something to remember him by."

Raine snatched it from her hand and inspected it. "Good work, Girlie. You get him alone, don't hesitate." He handed her back the pin. "Donny, help me move him to his room." He motioned to her father, who had passed out on the couch.

Raine and Donny struggled with the cumbersome weight of her father down the hall to his bedroom, shutting the door after literally throwing him on the bed. Raine said brief goodbyes and left the apartment.

"He's out for the night, what do you want to do?" she asked, motioning to her father's bedroom. They could hear the loud snores rolling out from behind the door.

"How do you know he'll sleep all night?" Donny asked, "And what the hell was Raine talkin' about?"

"Colonel Hans Landa, a.k.a. the Jew Hunter, he came into the shop today and was quite taken with me. Remember? Well, he and I talked for a while at the burning. Raine just had the wrong impression, that's all. And after having my father come home drunk almost every night of my childhood, I should know when he'll sleep through the night." She explained, heading towards their room. Her bag was perched on her bed and she opened it, finding some suitable pajamas and starting to change.

"Well, good, cuz I thought I would have to go kick some Nazi ass." Donny said, gulping at the sight of her in her silk undershirt. She wasn't facing him and couldn't see that he was staring at her. It had been such a long time since he had seen a woman in her skivvies, and he drank it in like a man lost in a desert would drink from an oasis.

She laughed, "Oh really? And why would you ever do that?" her voice dripped with sarcasm and she turned around to glance at him briefly.

"Maybe cuz I like ya." He said and she stopped sorting through her clothes, slowly turning around to face him. He was leaning against the doorframe in his customary undershirt, suspenders and pants. His hair was styled the same way it usually was, his face hadn't changed at all and yet Maddie saw him in a whole new way.

"How much?" she asked.

"A lot." He took a step closer.

"But you barely know me."

He took another step closer, "I know."

"Then how can you have feelings for someone you don't know?" her hands went to her hips and Donny took two steps closer, closing the distance between them.

"I don't know." His voice was a low growl and he looked down at her with menacing eyes. He reached for her hands that were still placed on her hips and brought them up, placing them around his neck. He put his hands on the small of her back, drawing her closer. The only thing that stood between their lips was about an inch of air, as Madelyn had raised herself to her tiptoes to further her nearness to him.

She wasn't that sturdy on her tiptoes and felt herself sway backwards, but Donny held her tighter to prevent her from toppling over.

"Thanks for that." She said, looking up into his brown eyes.

"Anytime." He smiled, leaning down to kiss her. Their lips had touched for the briefest of moments when her father burst into the room wielding his shoe.

"_Steigen Sie meine Tochter Juden Schwein ab_!" he yelled. _Stay away from my daughter, Jew Pig! _Donny expertly twisted them out of the way and reached for his bat, Maddie's knife materializing in her hand. Her father charged Donny, who knocked him on the head with his bat.

"Shit, Donny!" she said as he crumpled to the floor. And Raine had been worried about _her _being the one to kill her father.

"Don't worry, all he'll have is a bad headache in the morning. I can exercise restraint when need be." He had the baseball slung over his shoulder and was holding the fat end with his other hand.

"Help me get him back to his room?" she asked, looking up at him and taking her father under the shoulders. Donny obliged and picked up his feet and slowly but surely they maneuvered him back to his bedroom.

Maddie went into the kitchen to make tea and hopefully calm herself. What was she thinking, kissing Donny? She was only with the Basterds until she got her brother back, and then she and Charles would return to their calm lives in England. She'd forget all about the Basterds and Donny and Raine and the brief adventure she had with them.

Though, she wasn't sure that was what she wanted. She liked being around the guerilla Americans; she loved what they did and loved what they stood for. She didn't want to leave. She felt Donny's presence behind her and turned around. Donny said nothing, only kissed her gently. His lips were warm against hers and as soon as they were gone she grabbed his face, kissing him again a little harder than he had kissed her.

And suddenly, she was overcome. She didn't know if it was the thought of her brother, the thought of Landa, or the thought that she was making out with a merciless killer that finally got her, but as quick as lightning she was bent over, sobbing. Donny caught her on her way to her knees, keeping her from crashing onto the cold floor.

"Whoa, whoa, Maddie, what's-"

She shushed him with her hand and he nodded, leaving her in the kitchen to cry by herself.

Later, when he woke up from a nightmare, he went out to find her sound asleep, curled up into a ball on the floor. He picked her up gently and carried her to her bed, covering her with the blanket and kissing her cheek before whispering, "Goodnight, Maddie."


	9. Breaking Boundaries

The next day, sure enough, her father awoke with a monstrous headache, but nothing else out of the ordinary. He opened the shop and spent the whole day in the back, working on the Basterds falsified papers. He got all the ID cards done by lunch then started on the birth certificates.

Madelyn was left by herself out front. There were no customers, which left Maddie to daydream about what Donny was doing and what could've happened the previous night, when none other than Hans Landa strode proudly through the door. His shiny black boots carried him straight to her.

"_Guten Tag_, Madelyn." He said, giving her a wolfishly handsome smile.

"_Guten Tag_, Colon-" she started but he held up a finger to silence her.

"Ah ah ah, just Hans, remember?" he smiled still, which Maddie found slightly unnerving. She was glad that she remembered to put his pin on that morning. Really, she had found one of her mother's old necklace chains and hung it like a pendant. She now wore this makeshift necklace around her slender neck, Swastika staring up at her, practically burning through her skin.

"_Guten Tag_, Hans. What brings you here today?" she asked, spreading her hands out on the chilled counter.

"I have come to say goodbye, my dear. I leave for Poland tonight." He placed his hand on top of hers again; it seemed to be a habit of his.

"Oh no, so soon? I barely got any time with you!" Madelyn looked sad, lowering her eyes to stare at their hands.

"Which is why I am hoping you will accompany me for an early supper tonight. At my house. We can actually get to know each other. What do you say?" he asked, leaning over the counter slightly as if he was going to kiss her. Again.

She weighed this decision heavily. If she went, they would be totally alone. He could do anything to her and no one would find out for a long time afterward. However, if she refused he might get suspicious. Double-edged was her situation, and she had to step very carefully.

"I accept. Will we be…alone?" she asked, trying to sound seductive. Landa's smile turned from wolfish to positively sinful.

"Of course. Do you have a piece of paper?"

"Of course." She produced a piece of the finest white and handed him a pen. He wrote his address on the snowy white paper in immaculate penmanship and held it out for her to take. She smiled as she took it from him, clutching it to her chest.

"What time?" she asked.

"How about five o'clock?" he offered, his hands retreating behind his back as he prepared for departure.

"Sounds perfect. I'll see you then…Hans." She smiled and raised her hand for a small wave, but he caught it and kissed it gently with his tender lips. She couldn't help but let her heart flutter a little. She liked being pursued.

"Until then." He half-whispered up at her. Then he swiveled around and left, his shiny black boots creating their authoritative sound on the hard wood floor as he left.

When she proposed the idea of closing early that day, her father all too graciously agreed. His skull was still reverberating from the business end of Donny's bat. He handed her the papers he had gotten done, locked up the shop, and led her upstairs. Just before they entered he took the papers back, striding into the kitchen and throwing them down in front of Donny, who had been sipping a cup of water.

"The passports arrive next week, here's almost everything else." He said in an indignant tone.

"What's missing?" Donny took a commanding position, standing with his knuckles on the table, looking down at the papers then up at Alarik.

"Two birth certificates. That's all."

"Donny I need to talk to you." Maddie interjected. She had to tell Donny about her impending date with Landa. They entered the next room over and Donny crossed his arms.

"What?" he was a little bitter about the previous night, and it showed in his voice. He made sure of it.

"You remember that Colonel I met? The Jew Hunter?" she was trying to break this to him as easily as possible.

"Yeah, the one with the googly eyes." He sat on the couch, arms still crossed, his brown eyes still penetrating hers. Eye contact had always made her nervous.

"Yes, him. He has asked me to dinner tonight at five o'clock. At his house. And he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"So you said yes? I'm goin' with; you're not going into the fuckin' lion's den without some backup." Donny shot to his feet, crossing over to his bat. Maddie's hand on his chest stopped him.

"No, Donny. I have to go alone or he'll get suspicious." She avoided his eyes like the plague.

"At least have a few of us stationed outside, in case he tries anything." He offered in a slightly gentler voice, but she wouldn't budge.

"No, I have to go alone! And besides, you've seen what I can do. Now imagine if it's actually provoked." She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. Donny pulled away from her as if her touch burned him and stomped to their room, slamming the door.

She watched him go and sighed.

"What's this I hear about a date with Hans Landa?" her father asked jovially. He had obviously cracked open his nightly bottle of booze. Being a party member and a leader in local business had earned him a few extra privileges.

She grunted, clearly annoyed, and went to get ready for her impending date.

* * *

She wouldn't let herself be nervous as she approached the typical-looking house. She had imagined it to be more menacing than it actually was. Who knew that such an evil man could live in such an innocent-looking place?

She walked up the numerous steps and knocked on the door. Landa answered, wearing a simple white button-down shirt and black slacks. He looked oddly normal, and Maddie hadn't recognized him until she looked up to his face.

"Madelyn! Come in! May I take your coat?" he asked very genially while ushering her into the foyer. His hands slid off her light coat before she could reply.

"Please, sit down. Would you like some wine?" he ushered her again, this time to the living room. There were two couches facing each other with a table in the middle, and a grand fireplace loomed over it all on the opposite wall. He fetched the wine and motioned for her to sit while handing her a glass. She took it and sipped, and the warmly red liquid slid down her throat.

Once they were settled into their chairs, Landa went straight for the jugular, "I know you weren't in art school these last four years as your father claims you have been."

She pasted a guilty look on her face, having come up with this lie while walking over. "Yes, well…you see, my father wanted me to be an artist, but I didn't want to. So I dropped out of school and went to work."

"In a chocolate shop?" it was a statement, not a question. He knew, he knew everything. Inside her head Maddie's thoughts were flying at a million miles per second, but her face was calm.

"Yes. I want to be a chocolatier, but my father disapproves. When he found out that I dropped out, which was only quite recently, he brought me back to Munich. I plan on getting out again, going somewhere else in the Reich, perhaps Vienna. As soon as I have enough saved, that is." She looked at the grand fireplace to her left, talking as if she were in a daze.

"My dear, you could always come with me to Poland, I mean, it would be a lot of travelling but at least you wouldn't-"

"Thank you for the offer, but no. My father needs me at the shop right now, and since my brother is gone-"

"Aah, yes, the dashing Charles. Your father talks incessantly about him. He is very proud of him and his work in Poland. Maybe I shall pop in on him and introduce myself." Landa mused, dangling her brother in front of her. She bit her lower lip and he softened, "My dear, what is wrong?"

"I was in France when Charles was sent away. I haven't seen him in the longest time." She admitted softly, letting true emotion shine through for once. She looked down at the wine in her glass, watched the merlot color become richer in the firelight, watched the shape of the liquid distort as she gently swirled it around and around. For a second, it reminded her of blood.

Landa slid into the seat next to her without making a sound. He took her wine glass out of her hand and placed it on the table. He was so close to her, she could smell his skin and the cottony scent of his shirt.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to bring up such a sensitive subject. I did not realize-" Madelyn shushed him with her hand and quickly replaced her hand with her lips. He was surprisingly warm, and tender, gentle even.

She pulled back, like she had been electrocuted, and stood up quickly. The wine glasses vibrated as she did and she ran to the door, completely forgetting her coat and any sense of decorum.

What had she just done? What had she been thinking? Kissing a Nazi? And not just any Nazi, the Jew Hunter. She kept her speed at approximately a canter the whole way home, not caring that she slammed the door to the apartment.

"You're back early." An arrogant Jew pointed out from the couch. A new book was propped open on his legs, as he was reclined as if he didn't have a care in the world.

She ignored his comment and headed to their room. She heard her father in the bathroom, singing along horribly to one of the old drinking tunes stored in his memory.

Donny's feet soon tromped after her. "Did he try anything?" she could hear the caring note plucking his vocal cords, but she didn't turn around.

"No. I'm fine. Nothing happened, okay?" she couldn't hide her defensiveness. She had been on guard the whole night and she wasn't about to back down for the Bear Jew. Not for Donny, not for anyone. She could feel the walls that already surrounded her growing steeper.

"Okay, I get it. I'll get out of your way." He held up his hands and backed out of the room slowly.

As he shut the door, he saw the walls rise too.

He was now determined to tear them down.


	10. Busting Out

Hans Landa did indeed know everything.

Being in France at the time of Miss Murder's uprising was a happy accident. He had surveyed a few crime scenes and interviewed a few of the usual suspects, but nothing came of it. He had forgotten about the case entirely until he meandered into Herr Amsel's stationery shop. When he mentioned that his daughter had only recently returned to Germany, the wheels started turning in Landa's head.

The dinner had been meant to seduce answers out of her, but he could tell she was heavily guarded. He knew she would be a hard one to crack.

In truth, after the burning he didn't have paperwork to do; it was research. He obtained as much information (from a "friend" in France) as he could. She worked in a chocolate shop under the name Madelyn Rowley, her mother's maiden name. She had a small apartment near Montmartre, close by where a majority of the murders took place. She had only been in France for two years, and he couldn't ascertain exactly where she had been before, but he had a pretty good idea.

Rowley was a British name, after all.

His first priority upon entering Poland: Find Charles Amsel.

Get answers out of him, use force if necessary.

* * *

Two long, slow weeks passed in Munich. Her father toiled endlessly over the passports in the back while Madelyn stood out front, helping the Nazi customers. She had chained her homicidal tendencies up in a cage at the back of her mind, but they itched to get out. She burned to go on just one raid, but Donny wouldn't let her out of his sight past 7 PM.

The chilly situation with him didn't help. The fact that she went on the date alone and come back practically sobbing bothered him. He tried to ask her about why she came home in such a fuss, but she blew him off every time. Raine would stop in to check the progress and had already picked up the ID cards and birth certificates. He had a German photographer take their pictures at gunpoint and apply them to the ID cards.

Donny was issued his. His new name was Julian Feuchtwanger. He was less than thrilled.

The minute her father finished the passports she left him with Donny and snuck through the streets to where the rest of the Basterds were hiding. They had moved to a different building every five days to keep the Nazis off their trail. She approached an ex-Jewish bookstore and turned the corner, finding the door and knocking gently. Three short raps, a pause, three more. The door opened and she was pulled inside.

She strode over and presented the passports to an excited-looking Raine. He took them and flipped through each one. He smiled and handed her the two that belonged to her and Donny.

"We head out at sundown. Be ready by then." He said and sent her away.

She floated back to her father's shop and up the stairs to the apartment. She entered and shut the door, leaning back against it.

She could leave.

She was free again. From the back of her mind, the tendencies rattled their cage with excitement and anticipation.

"The hell's the matter with you?" Donny asked, coming in from the kitchen.

"We're leaving at sundown." Was all she could say. A big goofy smile was plastered on her face.

"Then get your ass in there and pack." He motioned to their room, a smile breaking on his face as well. Their suitcases had remained largely unpacked, but some few stray garments had been worn repeatedly and needed to be washed. Especially Donny's things, seeing as they smelled positively rank. As they packed, they talked in hushed voices.

"We shouldn't tell your father where we're going." Donny said.

"I don't even know where we're going, so it won't be a problem." She struggled to squish the last of her clothes into the suitcase. Her whole body shook with excitement.

"Y'know, this is the last time we'll be alone. I mean, we're gonna be around the rest of the crew from here on out-"

"I know. I'm so excited to get the hell out of Munich and get back to business." She smirked over at him, completely missing the subtext of his comment. He knew she had, and stalked over to her, boots thudding on the floor.

He stood behind her and spun her around forcefully. She looked up at him, clearly confused by his actions. Only when his warm lips crashed into hers did she understand. His hands were on the small of her back, pulling her closer and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss was so powerful that she felt as if she would melt into him.

He felt her shaking get worse and softened. He pulled away, much to her dismay, and looked down at her.

"You okay?" he asked softly. She answered by kissing him once more, gently, and nodding.

"I'm just so ecstatic that we're leaving. That's all." She said, bright eyes shining up at his.

"Oh, so it wasn't the kiss?" he teased. He smiled. God, how she loved that smile that had been absent for so long.

"Nope. Not at all. It was horrible. I think we need to practice. Often." She smiled and kissed him, their smiles joining for just a second. The clock in the living room chimed 8 times, and Maddie looked out the window. The sun was low on the horizon, almost ready to set.

"We should get movin'. Raine'll be here soon." He let her go and returned to his suitcase. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pack. With every extension of his arm, the muscles underneath moved and shifted. It was a view that she relished and wouldn't soon forget.

* * *

She had fallen asleep on Donny's shoulder again. He thrust her head up with one smooth shoulder jerk and she awoke. It was pitch black outside, and it looked as if they were in the middle of the forest. Donny had slipped out of the truck before she could ask him where they were.

"Stretch break. Switching out drivers." Utivich explained.

She nodded and slid out of the truck after him, bare feet landing in the soft, cold earth underneath. She had taken off her shoes in order to tuck her legs under her with more ease. She took a few paces away and stretched out her back, seeing some others doing the same. She barely had time to do that when Donny was dragging her away behind the thick trunk of a tree, where he kissed her.

She didn't object, and instead pulled him closer as his hands ran all over her back and sides. Hers were paving trails in his thick black hair. She was so wrapped up in the kiss that she didn't mind the tree bark digging into her back.

"Donny! Where'd you go?" they heard Raine call. They broke apart and he looked slightly apologetic, heading back to the others. Maddie waited a few moments and skirted the tree line, coming out in a different spot than Donny had and rejoining the group as they passed around a flask of something.

"Where were you?" Ulmer asked her as he passed the flask to her.

She shrugged nonchalantly, "I had to piss." And she took a swig. The liquor burned her throat, but felt good. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Raine and Donny, their backs to the rest of the group, hunched over a map spread out on the tailgate of the truck.

"Madelyn? Did you hear me?" Stiglitz asked.

"No, what?"

"Is it true that you had a Nazi falling in love with you?" he asked slowly, like she was an idiot or something.

"Yes. The Jew Hunter took a particular shine to me." She smiled widely, mocking a high-society Bettie. Some of the men laughed and before they could ask any more questions Raine called them back to the truck and they took off into the dreary German night once more.

* * *

They ended up in Innsbruck, Austria. Or rather, in a small mountain town slightly north of Innsbruck. They drove in at night, and Maddie marveled at the city lights below them.

They settled in an abandoned farmhouse and Raine took Utivich and Hirschberg into town for that week's rations. Madelyn set up her bedroll and paced the expanse of the kitchen area, waiting for Raine to return. This was the night, she had decided, that Miss Murder would make her comeback. All she needed was Raine's permission. If she didn't get it, there would be hell to pay.

They finally returned with a few meager items and placed them on the half-rotted wooden table. Maddie slammed her hands down on it to get his attention.

"I want to go." She said, her voice dropping half an octave and her head was tilted downward so she was looking up at him with dangerous eyes.

"No." he said, biting into an apple.

"Let me play. I need to play. If I don't play, I'll get rusty." Her voice was now full of saccharine phoniness.

"Answer's still no."

"Fine. I'll take Stiglitz with me." She was bargaining, hoping he would bite. Instead he bit into his apple, sending a spray of the sweet juice out the sides of his mouth.

"No can do, he's our resident fire starter and Baby, it's cold outside."

"Utivich then." Her eyes filled with disdain.

"Nope."

"Goddammit! I've been cooped up in a shoebox apartment for three fucking weeks and I need to play! Just let me _go_!" she shrieked, launching herself at the leader, the table blocking her. He took a step back and she wildly swung her arms, trying to catch his shirt.

He laughed while the others remained in stunned silence. Miss Murder had manifested herself again in Maddie, and she was pissed. She rose off the table, spinning around so her hair whipped her in the face. She scanned each one of them before storming out of the house.

"Donny, go after her. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. An' if she wants to kill somethin' let her. She ain't gonna stop until she does." Donny nodded and picked up his bat, pulling his and Maddie's jackets off the wall hooks before heading after her.

She had a good hundred meter head start, but he caught up with her in no time. It was about forty degrees Fahrenheit outside; just chill enough so Donny could see her breath in the air. He offered her jacket to her, but she ignored it. Her knife was in her hand and she looked hell-bent on Nazi-killing. She heard footfalls and ducked behind the corner of a building, Donny doing the same. Nothing came and the footsteps subsided.

"Where are they?" she asked, voice still dangerously low.

Before Donny could do anything, she threw herself into the middle of the street and yelled, "NAZI! NAZI, COME AND GET ME!"

He tackled her to the ground, her knife landing on the cobblestone a few feet away and his bat a few feet in the other direction.

"Are you fuckin' insane? You wanna blow our cover?" he asked in a tense, tight voice.

She looked up at him, "No. I want vengeance, and I thought you did too. Bear Jew," she scoffed, "you just talk a big game, don't you? Fuck you. Let me go."

Donny let out a long sigh, but rolled off of her in the direction of his bat, picking it up off the ground. She scooped up her knife and was off. She stopped about halfway down the street and turned back to him.

"Go back to Raine, Bear Jew. I don't need you." she asserted. Donny stayed put. No way was he letting her go anywhere alone. She could get captured, she could blow their entire operation sky-high, she could be sent to one of the death camps. They'd probably bring her to the Furher himself so he could shoot her right between the eyes.

He followed her at a distance for some time, sticking to the shadows so she didn't see him. He saw her turn down a seedy-looking alley and heard shouting in German. He broke out into a run, entering the alley just in time to see a rather large German night guard throw her against the opposite wall. She hit it hard and he heard a metallic sound of her knife hitting the stone ground. She swiftly followed it.

He charged the German, bringing down his bat and feeling his eggshell skull crush. He crumpled to the ground. Donny beat him mercilessly until the all signs of life stopped, which wasn't anytime within the next fifteen or so minutes.

When he was done, he pushed the stray strands of hair out of his face and turned around. Maddie had propped herself up on the wall so she was in a sitting position. Her knife lay in her limp left hand, stab position.

"I could've had him." Her breath was a wheeze, but Donny didn't think anything of it while he helped her up.

She had hit the wall very hard and blacked out for a moment, and once she came to she saw the majority of Donny's brutal beating in her defense. She tried to get up and help him, but pain exploded from her ribcage as she did. She laboriously reached over to her knife, her arm too weak to grip it tightly. Her whole body was leaden, and it was all she could do not to cry out in pain when Donny helped her up.

She was in pain, but she didn't let it show. She refused to be vulnerable. He could see that she was limping, despite her best attempts to hide it. He led her back towards the hideout, staying a few paces ahead of her, and it wasn't until halfway across the grassy field that he heard any cry of any sort out from her.

It wasn't so much of a cry as a thump. He heard her hit the soggy earth, and the grass crunched beneath her. Immediately, he hoisted her up in his arms and sprinted back to the farmhouse, where he could see Stiglitz had started a fire.

"Shit." Was all he could think as he ran, hoping, praying, wishing that they could help her.


	11. Broken

They had no idea what was wrong with her until Utivich suggested examining her. All of the men jumped at the chance, but Raine made them wait outside and covered the windows while Utivich studied her. He had been pre-med when Raine found him, after all.

Utivich didn't exactly know what he was looking for, any sign of trauma he guessed. Bruises, lacerations, any sort of mark. He didn't find any until he lifted her shirt with a nervous hand. On the left side of her torso there was a large, square-shaped, purple bruise. He felt it gently and sighed, knowing exactly what had happened. He replaced her shirt delicately and nodded back at Raine, who looked at him anxiously.

"She's got broken ribs, three of them. Probably just passed out from the pain. She can't do anything for at least a week." He diagnosed, taking a little pride in the fact that it was his first.

Raine wasn't so happy. They were supposed to head to Vienna the next morning, but now they were stuck there for another week.

"Fuck." He threw his hat to the right, running a hand through his hair and heading out to repeat the conclusion to the awaiting Basterds. From inside, Utivich heard a chorus of curses and they paraded back in, surrounding the table where Maddie lay, still asleep. Really, it was the best thing for her right now to get as much sleep as possible.

Stiglitz murmured in Raine's ear and they stepped outside. The group scattered until only Donny and Utivich were left, and Donny stared down at her intensely.

"It's not your fault, Donny. You didn't know." Utivich tried to help, but Donny shot him a venomous glare and he backed away, leaving the Bear Jew standing next to the table.

* * *

Hans Landa arrived in Oswiecim, Poland that morning and had sent a messenger to the nearby camp by lunchtime, requesting an audience with one Private Charles Amsel. The messenger returned with the young man just after dinnertime.

He resembled Madelyn, which was to be expected of twins. Same sandy-reddish blond hair, same bright blue eyes. He was taller, more muscular, and Madelyn's feminine features took on a much more masculine appearance when sculpted on his face. He was handsome, to be sure, but he looked much more than Madelyn's twenty years. A mere symptom of war.

"_Heil Hitler_." He greeted, saluting before Landa did the same and bid him to sit.

"Now, I bet you're wondering why you're here, Private Amsel." Landa said, pouring him some wine from the bottle on the table between them. He passed under a slight wave of déjà vu as he did, remembering his meeting with Madelyn not too long ago.

"Yes, Colonel. I am, however, honored that you request my audience." He was very good at flattery, much like his father.

"I'm sure." Landa's smile tightened and he took a sip from his glass. "I am here to talk about your sister."

Charles looked confused, "I haven't seen my sister since I left Munich, almost two years now."

"Oh, I know, I meant to elaborate on our topic of conversation. It is not merely of your sister, but of her temperament, her personality…her quirks, for lack of a simpler term." Landa's smile returned to normal and he leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable.

"Oh…well…Maddie's very nice. She's gentle and-"

"Do you think your sister could ever kill anyone?" Landa asked suddenly, wanting to get to the good stuff first and torture him with the details later.

"What? No! Why, what has she done? Is she in trouble?" Charles moved to the edge of his seat, his voice becoming very frantic.

"No, no, my boy. Now, it says here that your sister lived in Paris for two years, but nothing before that. She most certainly wasn't in the Reich, or we would have records of her, but nothing after 1936. Now, since you've only been in the military for two years I can only assume that, wherever she was, you were with her. Am I correct in this assumption?" Landa reached over and extracted a folder from its resting place on the table beside his chair, opening it and perusing its contents for added theatrics.

"Yes, I was with her, but we were in the Reich, in a small town of only about 250 people. The record-keeper wasn't very good at his job, I'm afraid. Absolutely addicted to the bottle, he'd do anything for a drop of liquor." Charles was obviously lying. Well, to Landa it was obvious. To anyone of less skill in the art of detection, he could have very well been telling the truth.

Landa calmly pulled out his gun and cocked it, smile dissipating instantly. "I know you are lying, and I could shoot you right now. In fact, I should. But I won't. You know why?"

Panic crept onto Charles' face as he shook his head.

"I won't kill you because I have a job to do, for which I need you alive. Now, I have been sent to look for her because she went missing a few days ago from your father's shop in Munich. I am simply trying to find her, and one of the places she most likely went was back to Paris or back to wherever she was with you before Paris." Hans lied proficiently, gun still held level with the young Amsel's head. "Now, I will ask you again, where were you and Madelyn before you entered the service and she went to Paris?"

"England. We lived with our grandparents in London." He wasn't as guarded as his sister. Landa uncocked the gun and put it on the table to his left.

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" His smile returned. "I will be in this area for a number of days, and if she comes to you, you will bring her here instantly, do you understand?"

Charles nodded, still dazed from his near brush with death.

"That will be all, young Amsel. It was a pleasure meeting you." Landa smiled and showed him out.

* * *

It took her almost twenty hours to wake up, and when she did Donny was standing over her. She smiled at him and tried to sit up, but pain erupted from her left side and forced her to lie back down. Donny remained at his post by her feet, staring at her angrily.

"What's wrong, Donny?" she asked.

"Why the fuck did you do it?" he countered. His voice was as full of anger as his glare was, and she was afraid of it, but only slightly. She'd seen him angry before, but not this angry.

"Do what?"

"Why did you have to go out last night? Why did you have to take off without me?"

"Don't get all self-righteous on me. You get the urges too, I've seen it on your face." She spat right back at him.

"Yeah, but I can control them."

"Control? Fuck you! I saw the way you beat that Nazi! You stole my comeback! I went out to do one thing, and when I got the chance you stole it away from me!" she ignored the burning pain in her side and sat bolt upright, staring him right in the eyes.

"You would be dead if it wasn't for me, or worse! I saved your life!" he roared, bracing himself against the table at her feet. Her eyes were watering because of the pain, but she wouldn't back down.

"You stole my one chance, got me injured, and you'll pay for it." She promised. Before Donny could come back with a searing retort, Utivich came over and instantly made a fuss because she was sitting up and she should be getting as much rest as possible, yadda yadda yadda.

Over the next few days, she gathered that all of the Basterds hated her for delaying their mission as much as Donny did because no one, except Utivich and Raine, would talk to her. She spent miserable hours lying on her back on the table, staring at the thatched ceiling above her. In the middle of the second day she had a strange thought.

_I wish I had stayed in London._

She had never had this thought before, not even while watching her father and being forced to be nice to the Nazis. She expanded on it. If she had stayed, she would never have broken her ribs, never met the Basterds, never even become Miss Murder. She wouldn't be risking her life every time she stepped outside. She wouldn't be caught up in this mess.

But she would be missing Charles, and feeling horrible about not doing anything to help him. And then another horrible thought crossed her mind.

_What if he's become one of them?_

The very thought brought tears to her eyes. The thing that hurt her the most was that it was entirely possible, in fact, highly possible. In order to survive in the Nazi's world, one had to become like a Nazi, she had discovered that part for herself. But the thought of Charles, sweet, caring, level-headed Charles goose-stepping and Zeig-Heiling cut through her like a red-hot scimitar.

She had to know. She couldn't lay there for days wondering about her brother's fate, so she leapt off the table (with only minor pain in her ribs, since they were mostly healed). She scooped up her bag and left without a word to or from the Basterds.

She descended into Innsbruck and asked around for the train station. She found it and bought a ticket to Poland.

From here on out, she wouldn't be the Basterd's burden. She was in this alone.

* * *

Raine and Donny watched her walk away from in front of the outdoor fire pit.

"You think we should follow her?" Donny asked, half of him wanting Raine to say yes, the other half bidding Maddie good riddance.

"She's goin' after her brother." Raine said, hands on his hips, contemplating who to send after her.

"Yeah, but should one of us follow her?" Donny rephrased the question, hoping for an actual response.

"I'll send Utivich and Stiglitz after 'er." The commanding officer decided.

"Why can't I go?"

"Damn, Donowitz, I thought you'd be glad to see her go." Donny was caught. Raine knew that Donny was harboring some deep feelings for Maddie. This could be potentially dangerous to the team's mission, which is why he decided to keep Donny behind.

"Well, I-"

"I need you here, Donowitz, end of discussion." Raine said as he ducked back into the farmhouse and ordered Stiglitz and Utivich to go after the escaped Miss Murder.


	12. Brother

Stiglitz and Utivich boarded the train as it began its slow trek forward. The lone ticket-seller had needed a little prompting from Stiglitz's gun, but had admitted to selling Maddie a ticket for the 8:30 train to Katowice, Poland.

Stiglitz kept one hand on his gun that was hidden under his coat and led Utivich down the narrow hallway, looking for an empty compartment. They found one and settled in for the ten hour train trip.

They mostly played cards, which ended in Stiglitz taking nearly all of Utivich's money in a few hands of poker. Utivich won it back by betting on how soon they would pass the next town. When there was only an hour left, they decided to scour the train for Maddie. Utivich went to the right, Stiglitz to the left. Stiglitz found her in the third train car he looked in. She was asleep, using her bag as a makeshift pillow and her coat as a blanket. He trudged back to his and Utivich's place and sat down, picking up the newspaper.

Utivich was out of breath when he got back, "Please tell me you found her."

"Yes. She's three cars that way. We shouldn't make our presence known to her just yet. She wants to find her brother, we let her find him." Stiglitz didn't look up from the paper as he said this.

"Yeah, but what if she gets in trouble?" Utivich asked nervously.

Stiglitz thought for a moment, "Then we step in."

The rest of the ride was silent. As the train pulled into the station they moved two cars closer to Maddie, and caught sight of her as she got off. She moved swiftly, and they almost lost her a few times, but they upped their pace to match hers.

It was times like this Utivich was thankful he was such a light packer.

* * *

Maddie counted what little of her money was left and cursed. She was outside the train station and was having a mental battle with herself about which to do, take a taxi to Oswiecim, or save it for a hotel in the city of her destination.

She could always hitchhike. She was no stranger to this, as it was how she would oftentimes get home from work in London when she was broke (which was more often than not).

She hitched her bag higher up on her shoulder and trudged to the outskirts of Katowice, where she stuck out her thumb. There were no cars, so she trudged on until Katowice was a dot in the distance. Again, she stuck out her thumb. There was a slight rumble in the distance and a truck bounced over the horizon. The male driver saw her thumb and swerved to the side of the road, brakes squealing and the gravel on the road running in all different directions.

"Guten Tag, Fraulein, can I give you a lift?" a handsome older gentleman asked, and since she was determined to get to her brother before sundown, she said yes and hopped into the truck.

"So, where are you going?" he asked, pulling away from the side of the road.

"Oswiecim. And thank you for stopping, I don't know how long I would have been standing there." She said coyly.

"That's where I'm headed, now, what's your name, gorgeous?" he was full of questions.

"Heidi Schultz." She recited the name that was on her forged birth certificate and ID card. Her father had wanted to name her Heidi, and did so on her papers because she might be a known criminal (or so he claimed).

"I'm Heinrich von Lichtenstein, pleased to meet you."

In a way, he reminded her of Landa. Aged, but not old. He was probably in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was salt-and-pepper colored and his green eyes were hidden behind thick horn-rimmed glasses.

"What business do you have in Oswiecim?" he asked, breaking the silence as well as her reverie.

"I'm visiting my brother; he works in the Army there."

"A noble position to have." Heinrich commented, keeping his eyes on the road.

They chatted pleasantly for the rest of the ride. Madelyn found out the Heinrich was a 54-year-old widower with three children all about her age. He was a tailor from Berlin that had heard about the job opportunities in Poland (especially for non-Party members), so he'd packed up and moved out there. He was a funny gentleman, and Maddie was glad he had stopped instead of some flesh-hungry Nazi.

Or worse, Landa. She had to keep her guard up, she realized, because Landa was roaming around these parts. If she was lucky, she would avoid him altogether.

But, then again, luck never came easily to her.

* * *

It was cloudy when they arrived in the little Polish town. Heinrich drove her to a small hotel that was surprisingly still functional and bid her farewell. She entered and was greeted by a frumpy housewife that took her money and showed her to her room. It was small, with a cot for a bed and a threadbare rug on the floor. A single hanging light bulb lit the entire room just enough for Maddie to see a small sink and cracked mirror in the opposite corner.

Maddie deposited her bag and left the hotel in search of her brother, knife in her pocket, ready to go if need be.

The first place she went to was a small pub down the street. It stank of sweat and stale beer. She approached the bar and asked the bartender if he knew anything of her brother.

"Charles? Oh yeah, I know him. He's in here almost every night." He said, wiping out a glass with his apron.

"What time?" she asked, her heart leaping into her throat.

"They usually get here around eleven PM, and they'll be here tonight for sure. It's Friday, and there's a crew shift so they won't have to work until next Wednesday."

"A crew shift? What's that?"

"It's when a second group of soldiers takes over the majority of the week. This happens about every six weeks or so. Or so the soldiers tell me."

Maddie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just past one PM. "Thank you, sir." She said as she hopped off the bar stool and left the bar. Thunder cracked in the distance and Madelyn could smell rain in the air. A strong wind urged her back to the hotel for a nap, and she gladly followed it.

* * *

Utivich and Stiglitz had hot-wired a car that had been sitting outside the train station and made it to Oswiecim with no interruptions. They parked in front of the only hotel in town and rented a room. As they were walking to it, they were forced to slam themselves against a wall around the corner of the building because Maddie had been heading their way.

"Shouldn't we follow her?" Utivich asked as Stiglitz opened the door.

"She'll be back soon, but if she goes out again we'll follow. We must keep ourselves incognito." He threw his stuff on one bed and took off his shoes. Utivich closed the door and did the same, his only choice being to trust his partner's instincts.

Sure enough, about half an hour later Madelyn returned. Through the extremely thin walls they heard her drop onto the bed and sleep. She slept until about ten PM, when she got up and used the sink to wash. She left at about ten thirty, pursued by the Basterds. She went to a pub and sat at the bar, conversing casually with the bartender. Utivich and Stiglitz chose a table in a dark corner and waited for something to happen.

It wasn't long before a group of about thirteen boisterous soldiers entered the bar. Stiglitz's hand went to his gun instinctively. They were babbling in German about how much ass they were going to get that night, a common topic among sexually-deprived soldiers of any nationality. They all went silent, however, when one of them said Madelyn's name.

He stepped away from his compatriots and looked at her intensely. She looked over her shoulder and a smile immediately showed itself on her pretty face. She leapt off the stool and rushed toward him, hugging about the neck as he spun her around.

"Charles!" she practically screamed. She was beyond elated at this point, and she thought that not even his swastika armband could bring her down from her point of near-bliss.

Until she saw it.

When he put her down, it screamed up from his bicep. It stared her in the face, an enemy force snaking its way into her stomach where it formed the densest rock.

"Maddie! I thought I'd never see you again! How did you find me?" he asked in German so as not to arouse suspicion.

"Father told me where your last letter came from. I have some time off of school so I came to visit. I hope that's okay with you." She was Munich Madelyn again, acting coy and oblivious around Nazis, as if she'd never heard of Aldo Raine or the Basterds or The Bear Jew.

The Bear Jew. Her stomach lurched at the thought of him.

"Of course it's all right! It's more than all right! God, I'm just so glad to see you again!" he hugged her tight to his chest and tears welled in her eyes. They had been separated for two years, and they had both changed immensely. In Charles, it was mostly physical. He was taller, his hair was shorter, his face was longer and his eyes and face were weathered. Madelyn's change was how she carried herself. She had gone from being shy little Maddie Rowley to Miss Murder, full of confidence and spunk.

Charles introduced his three best friends, Erich, Werner, and Geoff. They were all about Charles' age, and all looked just as tired and weathered as he did. They were friendly, talkative, and hell-bent on getting plastered. They ordered round after round, but Charles didn't drink a drop.

"Why aren't you drinking? It seems like an appropriate time to be." Madelyn said as casually as possible.

"Appropriate time? My sister travels all the way from Munich to see me and her first night here I get plastered? No, thank you, Maddie, but I want to remember this night." Same sensible Charles. He bid goodbye to his coworkers and offered to walk Maddie back to her hotel.

"So…" she said once she was sure they were alone, "are you a real Nazi?" she didn't know how to ask it and couldn't find the right phrasing in German, so she asked in English.

Charles sighed. "When in Rome, Madelyn, sometimes people are forced to assimilate."

"I know that, believe me, I do, but you can't truly believe this filth they're defending!" she tried to look him in the eyes, but he kept them glued to the sidewalk as if he was ashamed of himself.

"Of course not, but if anyone asks both of us would die for the Furher. It's best to leave it at that." He put his arm around her shoulders and they walked on in silence. It was late and it had just finished raining, and the earth smelled sweet.

Without her noticing, he took her down a side street towards where Landa was staying. It was about three in the morning, but Landa had said to bring her to him instantly, and as a good soldier of the Reich (supposedly) he was supposed to follow orders.

She looked up and around, not recognizing her surroundings. "Charles, where are we?"

"Just one more friend of mine for you to meet." Charles lied, something he had become very good at in the last few years. He knocked on the door and Landa answered in a pair of night clothes, although he didn't look like he had been anywhere near Dreamland. His face lit up like Christmas when he saw Maddie was with him.

Maddie sucked in a large breath, but before she could scream Landa had his hand clamped over her mouth and was leading her into the small, cramped dwelling. He handed her off to one of his bodyguards, who escorted her back to the room where she would be staying.

"Good work, young Amsel, you are dismissed." He slammed the door in Charles's face, leaving the horrible brother out on the doorstep as the rain made its reprise on the small Polish town.

* * *

Without delay, Utivich and Stiglitz sent word to Raine.

"Package intercepted STOP Hunter has it STOP Don't worry, we'll get it back STOP Continue to Vienna STOP."

Raine was hung over when he received it, but he deciphered it without too much trouble. He cursed loudly, waking Hirschberg and making those who were already up flinch in pain. Last night had been beer- and brothel-filled, so most of them were hung over. He threw it on the ground and went out for fresh air.

Donny, who was the only one not hung over, picked it up. A sharp pang reverberated through his skeleton once he realized what it meant.

Landa had Madelyn.

Which meant he knew about her past.

Which meant he was going to hurt her.

If not, kill her.

He ran after Raine.

"Please let me go after them! They need my help!" He begged Raine.

"I said no, god dammit, Utivich and Stiglitz can handle it and if you so much as think about asking me one more time I will take that bat of yours and shove it so far up your ass you'll be spitting sap for a month, you got it?" Raine got in his face, forcing him to back down. He was the Alpha dog, this was his outfit, his operation, and it would be a chilly day in hell before he would lose his best fighter to a girl.

Little did Raine know, he already had.


	13. Blackmail

After sending the message to Raine, Utivich and Stiglitz found Charles roaming around the back alleys. Stiglitz slammed him against the wall and pinned him there, expecting more of a struggle from him.

"Where is she?" he asked, although he knew what the answer would be.

"Ah, just the men I was looking for." Charles said, grunting at the force Stiglitz exerted on his chest.

"What the fuck do you mean?" Stiglitz demanded.

"I mean when I saw you two watching us in the bar and following our every move I figured you were sent to protect Madelyn. I need your help getting her free from Landa."

"Free? You're the one that brought her there!" Stiglitz was outraged and pushed harder on his chest. They were blathering in German, so Utivich had no idea what was happening. All he knew was their exchange was heated and he heard Maddie's name. Not that he expected them to get so heated over a conversation about clouds or haircuts.

"I was following orders, something that I wouldn't expect the great Hugo Stiglitz to understand!" Charles yelled back at him, and Stiglitz was taken aback, "That's right, I know who you are. And, as a supposed Nazi soldier, I am expected to follow orders. I never intended leaving Madelyn with the Jew Hunter."

"So to save your own ass you left her there? Some brother." Stiglitz let him go and he dropped to his feet.

"You'll help me then?" Charles asked, rubbing his tense shoulder and switching to English. He had been shot there by a rogue Polish prisoner that had somehow gotten hold of a guard's gun a year earlier. That's why he was happy with his desk job.

"Of course, we were sent to protect her." Stiglitz said as he led Utivich away into the night. They would have to wait a few days before they freed her, and it would have to be a time when Landa wouldn't have his security guards. For now, they would watch her closely.

Without getting too close, of course.

* * *

He kept her in a room with a bed and not much else. There was a chest of drawers near the door, and a lamp on top of it, but other than that, nothing. The first night, after she heard the outside lock on the door handle click, she sat on the bed, curled in a corner. She remained awake, veins pulsing with the fear and anticipation of what Landa would do to her in the morning. Clearly her suspicions were correct; he knew everything.

At around 10 am, he entered the room and shut the door. He looked perfectly coiffed; as if he had just stepped out of bed looking like he was ready for whatever the day threw at him.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked in a steady voice.

"Nothing, my dear. You're the bait." He had brought a chair into the room with him and he now sat on it, regarding her casually.

"Bait?"

"Yes, bait. I know who you are, Miss Murder, and I know who you're working with. So, you will stay here with me and scream when I tell you to scream and when they come to fetch you I will kill them all." He was casual about his explanation, as if he was discussing what to have for dinner.

"You have no idea who I'm working for." She was confident in this, seeing as how the Basterds were relatively unknown. Their name had been tossed around, but no one was sure they existed.

Landa pulled a file folder out of nowhere and flipped it open across his lap, reading from it aloud. "Aldo Raine, also known as Aldo the Apache, leader of vigilante group The Basterds. This group is rumored to consist of one called the Bear Jew and prison escapee/traitor to the Reich Hugo Stiglitz. They pose little threat to the Reich, but if one should ever find them they should be killed without hesitation."

Madelyn was stunned.

"There is also a footnote here," he continued, "It is rumored that one Madelyn Amsel (Rowley) also known as Miss Murder, is traveling with them. She is also to be killed on sight."

The color drained from Maddie's face and she stared at him as he produced another folder out of thin air. "Madelyn Heidi Amsel, born November 9th, 1921 to Mr. Alarik and Mrs. Ella Amsel. Twin sister to Private Charles Amsel of the Wermacht. Hair color blonde, eye color blue, height 1.65 meters. Distinguishing characteristics include small vertical scar on right eyebrow, often hidden, and heart-shaped mole on left foot. Location currently unknown, formerly Paris. Believed to be reputed Miss Murder, possibly working with The Basterds."

He looked up from the file. Madelyn's eyes were wide and her expression read of fear. "Do you know who compiled this information, Madelyn?" he asked, pronouncing it correctly as he had when he was wooing her. She shook her head.

"I did. No one has seen it but me, and I could easily rip it up and toss it in the fire, but if- and only if- you tell me the exact location of the Basterds." He held the folder vertically and stared her down.

"I don't know where they are. I've left them." She said. "I got injured and delayed them, they were angry with me, so I left. I came to find Charles and take him back to England with me, that's all."

"You're injured?" Landa asked in a noncommittal tone.

"I have three fractured ribs here, but they're mostly healed." She said, also noncommittally. She moved her hand so it hovered over her wound.

"May I see?" he continued. His face remained blank but his voice held a semblance of interest, possibly genuine caring for her well-being.

"No."

"And why not?"

"I would have to take off my shirt." She said simply, trying to maintain some sense of decorum between her and her captor.

"Well, that's never seemed like a problem for you in the past." His casual tone and the way he was looking at her deeply offended her. If she only had her knife, this Nazi would have been dead the second he walked into the room.

"I beg your pardon? What are you talking about?"

"You were so quick to kiss me that night in my Munich house; I just assume that all of the Basterds have had the same pleasure, if not more-"

"You shut up! I'll have you know that I have not slept with any of the Basterds-!"

"Is it because they're Jewish?" The conversation was now a Wimbledon singles match, the remarks flying back and forth across the space between them at almost light speed.

"How dare you!" She glared at him with all of her hate, wishing that he would burst into flame and go to the special spot in Hell that Satan had set aside for him.

"How dare I? My dear, it was only a logical conclusion." He rose out of the chair and crossed to her as he spoke, stroking her bare forearm tenderly, "Since you are Aryan and a citizen of the Reich I can only hope that you would not soil yourself with the touch of a dirty Jew. At least not when you have such a man as myself ready and willing to have you."

This part was true. Landa held her there partly to get information about the Basterds, but also to bring her back into the light about them. He also found her very attractive and had practically craved another kiss. There were only two things he otherwise craved and those were smoking and the blood/screams/tears of innocent Jews that he hunted.

He felt her bicep flinch under her chilled skin and she kept her eyes forward, staring at the wall ahead of her. He moved closer, kissing her lightly just under her ear and then proceeded down her neck. She jumped slightly and moved her torso away from him, turning her head so she was looking directly at him.

"Colonel Landa-." She whispered. Their faces were dangerously close and she could feel his breath on hers.

"Hans." He interrupted, also with a whisper. He wasted no time in kissing her full on the mouth, and this time, she didn't object.

* * *

The Basterds had moved on to Vienna as planned. It was around ten in the morning, but most of them were asleep from the long night. They had stumbled upon a sleeping Nazi camp of about fifteen men and Raine had felt like a little game of cat-and-mouse, so after having killed half of them he blindfolded the remaining men and decided to play a little game of midnight Hide-and-Seek. Any Nazi able to be seen after Raine stopped counting was shot. It had been fun, but tiring.

All of them now slept, except Donny. He was wide awake, standing at the window. He stared out on the Nazi-occupied street and sighed. For the first time since joining the Basterds he was wondering how his life would be after. After the war was over, what would he do? Where would he go?

Probably back to Boston, where he'd maybe take over the family business (his dad owned a newspaper, The Boston Star). He'd settle down with a girl that he'd most likely known his whole life (like Marcie Goldman, who wasn't unattractive) and she'd pop out a few kids and they'd grow old together.

Only he couldn't see any of that happening. He couldn't see it because he couldn't see himself living through the war. Maybe the Nazis would finally catch up to them. Maybe he'd die in an air raid.

He shook his head and thought about Maddie and how scared she must be in the grips of Landa. That was the last straw.

Donny grabbed his bag and his bat, slinging them over his shoulder and leaving. He was going to save her whether or not Raine gave permission. Donny was ready to go up against the Jew Hunter, and if he was as good as they said he was, he would know that The Bear Jew was coming for him.

He would stop at nothing to save her and give to Raine the scalp of the Jew Hunter.

* * *

Madelyn lay on the bed, fast asleep. Landa had redressed and was now sitting on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair and looking mighty proud of himself. All of a sudden, Donny burst through the door with his boot. Landa stood but Donny wasted no time in smacking him around with his bat.

Until, that is, Landa reached under the bed and retrieved a gun, pointing at Donny and shooting three times. Maddie woke up just in time to see blood fall from his lips and gravity getting the best of him. Maddie screamed…

She awoke with a start, breathing heavily. She was on her stomach and she felt Landa's hand stroking her bare back. She turned her head toward him and he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her.

"My dear, what's wrong?" he asked, still stroking her back.

"Nothing. Bad dream, that's all." She said as he pulled on his pants and nodded. "How long will I be here?" she asked as he slid into his shirt.

"As long as it takes." And with that he kissed her forehead and left the room, locking the door behind him.

She lay back on the bed and wondered how long it would be before they came after her. How long would it take for them to come to her rescue?


	14. Bear Jew Savior

Donny arrived in Oswiecim at eleven in the morning the next day. He found Utivich and Stiglitz at a pub, sipping pints of beer. Utivich looked shocked to see him, but Stiglitz looked as though he had been expecting Donny to show up. Which he had.

"Where is she?" Donny asked. He looked ready to kill. Stiglitz figured he would be too in his situation.

"42 Lutz Street. Go down a block and take a left, follow that street. It's a pale house. He keeps her in a room at the back." Stiglitz didn't as much as look up at Donny as he took another sip of his beer. "Take my gun." He said, handing Donny his loaded sawn-off shot gun, "You'll need it."

"Thanks." Donny took the gun and left the bar, ready to kick some Jew Hunter ass. He followed Stiglitz's directions to where the house was and discreetly surveyed it, circling it, looking for every possible entrance and exit. He was on his third circle, now in the alley behind the house, when he saw Maddie at the window.

She looked sad, and Donny's stomach did back flips when he saw what he thought was a giant bruise surrounding her right eye. Landa would pay for that. He hid behind the short wooden fence so she wouldn't see him, but she already had.

Her heart leapt at the glimpse of him as he ducked behind the fence. He had come to save her. How very knight-in-shining-armor of him, she thought as she touched her blackened eye. One of Landa's bodyguards had tried to get fresh, she hit him, he hit back. Hard. Landa had nearly killed the poor man for that. For how much he seemingly hated her, he was awfully defensive of her.

She wondered how long it would take Donny to storm the castle. Hopefully he would lend her his bat so she could help with the escape. She looked around the room for something she could use if she absolutely needed to. All she could think of was taking one of the drawers out of the squat dresser on the opposite wall and bashing whoever was in her way over the head with it.

She got up and walked over, curious as to whether it would hold. She opened one of the drawers and knocked. It was oak. It would hold. She walked back over to the window to see if Donny was still there, but he wasn't. Either he had moved back to the front of the house or was still hiding. She sighed and sat back down on the bed. Landa could've at least left her a book or something. At this point, she would gladly read Jane Austen. She absolutely hated Jane Austen.

It didn't matter now, she thought, because Donny would free her soon. She wondered if any of the other Basterds had tagged along. Probably not, seeing as how they had all been so mad at her. She decided that the second she heard a gunshot she would grab her drawer and free herself. She decided this as she leaned back against the wall, letting herself fall asleep for the first time in 24 hours.

* * *

Stiglitz and Utivich grabbed the back of Charles' collar, pulling him away from his three friends as they casually stood on the street corner. They slammed him against the wall, much like they had during their previous encounter.

"The time is now. Are you with us or not?" Utivich asked before Stiglitz could. He felt left out of this operation, and he felt now was the time to assert himself.

"Why now?" Charles' voice went up half an octave. They could both smell his fear.

"Because The Bear Jew has come to rescue her. And he's not going to wait very long, so are you with us or not?" Stiglitz stepped closer to him.

Charles sighed, "I'm in. On one condition."

"Shouldn't saving your sister be enough reason?" Utivich was pissed and, if he had read Donny's expression correctly, they were running dangerously low on time.

"Yes, but I need to know that both Madelyn and myself will be safe. I want to join you. Be a Basterd. I can supply you with guns and ammunition that'll last you months." Charles was bargaining, Stiglitz was disgusted, and Utivich was nervous.

"Yes, alright, okay," Utivich agreed preemptively, "We have to go _now_." He grabbed Charles' shoulder and pushed him down the alley towards Landa's house. Stiglitz handed the ex-Nazi his handgun and Utivich gave Stiglitz an apologetic look. Stiglitz only shook his head and took his spare shotgun out of an interior pocket of his jacket. He looked back at the twin brother.

"Any funny business, you're dead Nazi boy." He warned as they met up with Donny.

"What the fuck are you doin' here?" he asked, clearly pissed off by their presence. He had planned for a solo mission.

"We're here to help. You go in the back, get Madelyn. We'll distract Landa and his men." Stiglitz said, loading his shotgun. They were standing behind the neighboring garage, well out of sight and well hidden. Donny's eyes stopped on Charles.

"Who the fuck are you?" he saw the Nazi armband and spat.

"I'm Charles Rowley, Maddie's brother." Charles explained, extending his hand to be shaken.

Donny ignored it, "So you're the reason we're all here?" Charles could only nod. Donny continued without missing a beat. "I'll break her window, get her out that way while you two bust in the front shooting like hell." He was authoritative.

"What will I do?" Charles asked. Donny turned to him and glared. Charles expected an answer like "stay out of the fuckin' way".

But instead, Donny said, "You'll be with me. You'll get Maddie to safety. Bring her back to the hotel, get her things, and get yourselves on the next train out of here."

Charles nodded. Everyone was clear on the plan. They bid each other good luck and Stiglitz and Utivich circled the block to get to the front of the house while Charles and Donny crouched behind the fence, waiting for the first sounds of gunshots to permeate the air.

"Why are you doing this?" Charles whispered suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Because." Was all Donny answered.

"Because you're in love with my sister, aren't you?" Charles knew it. Donny turned his head back to him and looked him straight in the eye.

"Yes. I love her. Now shut up so we can hear our fucking cue." He turned back, gun at the ready. About three minutes later they heard gunshots and shouting. Donny and Charles leapt over the fence and bounded to the window Donny had seen her in earlier, Donny smashing the glass with the butt of his gun. He pulled himself in and saw Maddie standing near the door with an empty drawer in her hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked and she turned, not having heard the glass smash in all the commotion. She dropped the drawer and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

"I had to defend myself somehow, didn't I?" she said into his chest. Charles had hopped in through the window at this point and was standing nearby awkwardly. Maddie finally let go of Donny and looked at her brother.

Tears sprang into her eyes and she hugged him as well. "I understand, Charles. It's okay."

Tears fell down his cheeks as he looked down at the gun in his hand over her shoulder. He knew what he had to do. He let go of Maddie, kissed her cheek and walked calmly over to the door. With his Nazi boot camp training he kicked the door down and expertly aimed the gun, hitting his first victim in the throat.

"Go Maddie, get out of here!" he half-yelled above the noise that had gotten louder upon the door's opening. Bullets exploded out of the business end of guns and Hans Landa saw a young Charles Amsel standing in his prize's doorway.

"NO!" He yelled, shooting three times at the young private, hitting him all three times. He heard Madelyn scream as her brother fell to the floor, dead.

Donny hurried her out of the window and got himself out just in time. Landa was at the window, screaming at them as they ran across the yard and down the alley.

"You can run, Madelyn Amsel, but you can't hide! Not from me you can't!" he threatened.

Maddie was sobbing as she and Donny ran all the way back to her hotel. Her hands were shaking badly and she realized that her key was back at the house. As was her knife. And her German papers. She pointed this out to Donny, who unstrapped a small pistol from his ankle and handed it to her.

"It's about time you learn how to use one of these, then." He smiled and slightly pushed her back as he kicked down the door to her hotel room.

"Quick. We don't have much time." He said to her, motioning for her to gather her things. As she was, a blood-soaked Utivich and Stiglitz walked up to them.

"We couldn't find Charles or Landa, we had to get out of there fast." A breathless Utivich said.

"Charles is dead. Landa killed him. Get your shit; we have to get out of here before Landa can send more of his people after us." They both nodded, ducking into the room next door and returning seconds after Maddie emerged with her small bag of belongings.

"How are we going to get out of here?" she asked as the group walked hurriedly through the streets, keeping their heads down.

"Same way we got in, hot wire a car." Stiglitz assumed. At the mention of a car, Madelyn remembered Heinrich.

"What if we didn't have to steal one?" she stopped and fished around in her bag for the slip of paper Heinrich had written his address on. She found it and looked, dashing off. The boys had no choice but to follow her.

She arrived in front of a green house (or it had once been green, it was quite faded now) and pounded on the door. Heinrich answered and his eyes opened wide at the sight of Madelyn with three rough-looking men carrying concealed weapons.

"Heidi, what is the meaning of all this?" he asked.

"First of all, my name is Madelyn Rowley, not Heidi Shultz, and remember how you said that you weren't a Party member?" she asked, realizing how dumb her question sounded once she asked it.

"Yes, I remember. Come in, my dear, your friends too. Quick now, before you're seen." He ushered the four into his small living room.

"I'm in trouble. Hans Landa is after me and I need to get out of here fast." She said urgently, gripping Donny's wrist so tightly she could feel his pulse. If she was causing him any pain, he didn't show any sign of it at all.

"You need to get out of the Reich then? What about your friends?" Heinrich lowered himself into a chair.

"We'll be fine, Maddie, we don't need his help." Donny pulled her as if to go, "The Basterds can protect you. No offense, Sir, but we can handle this."

"Donny you don't understand! He has a file on me! He knows that I use my mother's last name, he knows my fake name, he knows that I'm Miss Murder. He will be able to find me without so much as a lifting a finger as long as I'm in the Reich. I need to get out." Her eyes were pleading, she looked positively terrified. Donny sighed. It was true. If Landa knew that much about her she would be found. It wasn't a matter of if anymore, it was a matter of when.

"Did you say the Basterds?" Heinrich asked, excited by their presence, Donny nodded and confirmed the rumors Heinrich had heard floating around for months, "I can help you. I am the beginning of a sort of Underground Railroad for refugees. That is the real reason I moved out here. There is a camp full of them nearby. I help them get out of the Reich, mainly to Russia but from there they can get pretty much anywhere." Heinrich picked up a cup of tea and sipped.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Utivich asked.

"Because I trust him." Madelyn said, and that was that.

"Your friends can stay for no more than two days. After that, you will continue on and they will have to go back to wherever they came from. For now you four can have the basement." Heinrich got up and beckoned for them to follow. They descended into a small dirt cellar with mats for a floor. Boxes lined the walls and Heinrich made his way over to one marked, 'Fotografien' and moved it, which revealed a hole.

"If we are raided, I will stomp on the floor three times. That means that you get in here and don't make a sound." And with that, he left. They set their things down and sat, resting their backs on the boxes.

"What would you say to me coming with you? Just to make sure you got out okay." Donny asked from his position next to her. She slipped under his arm and pressed herself close. He smelled of sweat and musk and dirt, and it was the sweetest odor she ever smelled. She didn't answer for a while because she was gathering the courage.

"No. Raine needs you more than I do. I've got your gun, I'll be okay. Once I get to Russia I'll go back to London. Start over." She sounded on the brink of tears, and she was. Charles was dead. Landa was after her. Her father was a devout Nazi. Donny had to leave her.

He kissed the top of her head as she quietly cried herself to sleep, face pressed into his chest. He continued to stroke her hair until he fell asleep himself.


	15. Backwoods Backstabbing

Madelyn awoke to an empty cellar. She heard the four men above her moving around the small house. She had no idea what they were doing, so she sat up, feeling the heft of Donny's jacket on her shoulders. She didn't bother taking it off as she climbed the ancient wooden steps. The four men were bustling about in the kitchen. They were moving very quickly and no one seemed to notice her until she grabbed Stiglitz's arm, forcing him to almost pull her over with the inertia of his movement.

She didn't have to say a word. "He knows you're here. We have to move. Now." Stiglitz said in a level voice.

Maddie staggered back as if she'd been shot, her knees turned to water and she slid down the wall behind her. How? How did he find out? It didn't matter. He was coming for her and would no doubt kill anyone who was in his way.

One day, one day of peace. Was that too much to ask for?

In this world, yes. It was.

Donny pulled her to her feet and put her in a chair, kneeling in front of her so they were at the same eye level. "I'm gonna get you to the next safe house, Utivich and Stiglitz and Heinrich are gonna get Landa off our trail. Now is not the time to lose it, Maddie, not when you're so close." He explained quietly. Maddie nodded, stood silently, and went to the basement to retrieve her things.

When she came back up Heinrich was handing Donny a map and explaining how to get to the next stop on her way to freedom when a knock came from the door. Only it wasn't so much of a knock as a pound.

"Go, quickly, out the back." Heinrich said as the pounding became more insistent.

Maddie didn't have any time to say goodbye before Donny pushed her out the door, grabbing his bag in the process. He made sure the coast was clear before he gripped her hand tightly, leading her in a sprint for the tree line.

They were halfway there when she heard Landa's voice scream something incoherent from this distance. That was all it took, she looked back, lost her footing and fell face first onto the ground. Donny picked her up bridal-style and ran for it.

He ran deep into the woods before he needed a rest, putting her down. She dusted herself off and leaned against a tree, slightly panting. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She had to get out of the Reich. Now.

Donny smirked at her, "You are just one big Nazi-magnet, ain't you?"

She smirked back, "Apparently so."

"I'm gonna have to leave you when we get there. Raine'll kill me if I don't get back." He said as if it came to any shock to her.

"I know." Was all she said, briefly glancing up to the cloudy morning sky, "Only, I have no intention of going to Russia. We're too deep into German territory to make it all the way to Vichy France or Switzerland without being noticed, same goes for heading to the Mediterranean. The only way to go is up."

"Up?" Donny was confused.

"North. I'm going to head north until I get to the Baltic Sea. I'll find a ship and sail back to England. Simple." She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was going to be easy.

"Are you insane? You have a guaranteed way out and you want to toss it because you don't want to go to Russia? Here's some breaking news for you, Madelyn, you don't got any other options at this point! It's Russia or death!" He raised his voice to just below a yell and she launched herself at him to try to shut him up. They had no idea how close Landa was, and if Donny kept shouting he would be on them in no time. She tripped on a root and fell face-first into his chest.

Donny caught her and held her up, "Careful, don't want to break something else."

"Truth is, I would rather do this without the safe houses because I know that is where Landa will look first. He will find them in no time and when he does I am dead on sight as is everyone else around me. Or worse." She managed to get herself back into a standing position, still propped up on Donny. Her thoughts went back to that afternoon when Landa visited her. It must've shown on her face, for Donny asked what was wrong.

"Nothing. It's just that I don't want to be found." Her walls were up again, but Donny was determined.

"Did something happen while Landa had you in his house?" he almost feared the answer. She feared him knowing what had happened. He would lose interest in her; perhaps go so far as to kill her.

She said nothing. Donny was sick of this. He wanted answers, no matter what they were.

"Dammit, Maddie, how do you expect anyone to help you if you don't tell them what's wrong?" he asked, sounding pissed off and hurt at the same time. His frustration with her was rising.

"Maybe I'm scared of their reaction. Maybe I want to keep some things to myself. Maybe I don't want their help." She listed off reasons for her guardedness casually, lifting a finger for each one as she said it.

"Shut up. God damn, you're screwed up." He was disgusted. He pushed her away and took a few paces back.

"Yeah, but you love me!" She blurted. She clapped her hands over her mouth and turned her back on him. He retraced his steps toward her, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"What makes you so sure, Princess?" he asked. She turned back around.

"Why? Is it not true?" she looked up at him defiantly, challenging him to spit out the truth before she did.

"Oh no, it's not. The Bear Jew loves one thing and one thing only. And that is bashing in the brains of Nazis, and no dame is gonna get in the way of that. Got it, Miss Murder?" he chided, mocking her in the cruelest tone possible. His words slashed at her like her knife, but she didn't show it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Everything she believed about Donny had been false. Instead of coming back with a searing retort, she spun around on her heel, picked up her satchel, and stormed off in the general direction of north.

"Hey! Wait up!" he yelled after her, grabbing his bag.

"Go to hell, Bear Jew!" she screamed over her shoulder, hot tears falling down her cheeks as she kicked her way through the brambles and brush. He caught up with her as she started repeatedly kicking a tree that was in her way, taking out all her rage and frustration on it the way she had with Nazis before this whole mess. She punched, kicked, slapped, scratched, anything she could think of.

Donny put a wary hand on her shoulder and she spun around.

"What are you still doing here? I told you to go to hell!" he didn't say anything and she persisted, "You say you only love killing Nazis? Why didn't you kill Landa, huh? I slept with him, you know! That should be more than enough reason for you to go after him! But that's right! You don't fucking care! Now why don't you go back to your precious Raine and the Basterds and forget about me, which should be pretty damn easy!" she was still screaming. Donny's face showed a mixture of shock, sorrow and pure unadulterated hatred. She tried to leave but he latched onto her upper arm, pushing her roughly against the tree.

"You slept with him?"

"He would have killed me otherwise."

"Was he holding a gun to your head?"

"No, but he has a file on me, it was the only way to get him to destroy it."

There was a silence, and then, "Did you enjoy it?"

"What do you think?" she asked, as if the answer was obvious to him.

He hit the tree inches from her face, "DAMMIT MADELYN! Answer me!"

"No!"

He stared at the ground, bracing himself with his hand still against the tree. "Okay. Come on, we gotta get movin' if you're gonna get north."

He wouldn't look at her and stayed at least five paces ahead of her the rest of the day. He only answered her questions with one word answers. She wished she hadn't told him. He built a small fire and sat on the opposite side of it from her, staring blankly at the embers.

"Donny, look at me." She said quietly. He didn't. "Donny, please?"

He looked up, looking annoyed by her presence. She took a breath.

"I love you." She looked him straight in his brown eyes that reflected firelight. He blinked, but otherwise didn't respond.

"Look, I made a mistake. Just, please, tell me that it'll be okay. Tell me you love me. Say anything." She pleaded with him. He still had no response. Tears threatened her again, and she didn't want to have Donny see her like that, so she got up and walked away from the fire. Despite her best attempts, he heard her sniffling in the near distance.

He poked the fire with a stick and said quietly, "I love you too, Madelyn."


	16. Baby?

She was now alone in the woods. She cried herself to sleep and awoke to find that Donny had stamped out the fire and left sometime in the night. She was heartbroken, but continued north as planned. Now that she was alone she noticed the menacing look of the forest around her. Each piece of bark was an eye, giving her exact location to Landa as the tree's branches prepared to ensnare her. She heard a rustle and turned, raising the gun in a flash.

A man rose out of the bushes, hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Please, don't shoot. We mean you no harm. My friends and I have been traveling for weeks. Please, don't shoot." He said in calm, flawless German. Two men and two women also rose from the bushes. All of them were wearing ill-fitting clothing and looked as though they hadn't had a decent meal in weeks.

She lowered the gun. "Who are you?"

"My name is Hamisch. This is Katya, Nikolai, Tonya, and Malachi. We are Jewish Russians that were imprisoned not to far from here. We managed to escape and have been on the run for two weeks now." Hamisch said. He was, at most, in his mid-thirties. He had curly dark brown hair and hazel eyes hidden behind round glasses. He looked kind.

"So you're headed back to Russia, then?" Maddie assumed.

"Yes, we all have lives to return to." One of the women piped up with a heavily accented voice. She looked to be in her mid-fifties with thinning gray hair and hopeless brown eyes.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't head that way if I were you." Maddie tucked the gun away, seeing no use for it. At least, not yet.

"And why not?" the oldest-looking man demanded. He was maybe in his early sixties, with a thick crop of white hair. He looked similar to the man named Hamisch, probably his father or uncle.

"An SS patrol is headed in that general direction. One of them is the Jew Hunter. And if he can find Jews, which he can, he can sure as hell find Russian Jews." She hadn't meant for it to sound as derogatory as is had. She silently berated herself.

"What makes you so sure of this?" Hamisch asked, his voice calm and clear through the clamor of his comrades. It was clear that he was the leader. They all fell silent in anticipation of her answer.

"Because I am the one he's after. He thinks I'm heading for Russia, but I'm actually heading north to the Baltic Sea. Hopefully I can get back to England from there." She said the last part to herself. There were audible gasps from the escapees and Hamisch turned back to them and brought them into a huddle. They spoke in hurried Russian, both of the women clearly nervous and one of the men sounded angry.

"Look, if you don't mind, I'm sort of in a hurry, so I'll just be going." She said loudly, interrupting their powwow and heading off in the general direction of north. She silently cursed herself for not finding a compass before she left.

"Wait! We would like to come with you!" Hamisch yelled after her. He shushed the angry whispers that came from his cohorts.

"I can't offer you protection. I'm not even sure if I can get back to England." Madelyn knew she shouldn't have told them anything, but her mouth (as usual) was three steps ahead of her brain. If it hadn't been, Donny would still be around.

"We do not want to be found by this hunter of Jews, and since you have escaped him it seems that we are safer following you than heading back to Russia." Hamisch reasoned. His logic was sound.

Madelyn sighed and stared at the ground, "Alright, but it's every man and woman for his or herself. I won't be babysitting you." Under her breath she added, "I can't even take care of myself."

"All you have to do is lead us north, that is where your responsibility ends." He assured her as they all picked up their hidden belongings. She sighed again and kept walking, not checking if they were following her.

It took them an hour at a brisk pace before they complained.

"Madelyn, would you mind if we slowed down a bit?" Hamisch asked, although he sounded like he could go faster. She stopped and turned around, almost crashing into him as he approached her.

"Why?" was her only question.

"Well, you see, Katya…she's…she's pregnant." He was extremely hesitant in telling her, and for good reason. She shoved him aside and took long strides over to the young, ashen-haired girl.

"Is this true?" she asked in German. The girl looked scared and babbled on in Russian, reaching for Nikolai's hand. He grasped it and helped her sit on a nearby rock. Now that she was sitting Maddie could clearly see the large bump in her abdomen that meant she would pop any day.

She turned to Nikolai, "How far along is she?" she asked.

"Eight months. We think." He said. "She's worried that you'll kick her out because of the baby."

Madelyn looked at the girl's face. She couldn't be more than eighteen years old. "No, she can stay." Relief flooded every Russian's face and anxiety flooded Maddie's thoughts.

How would they feed six people and an infant? How would they travel with it? How would they keep it quiet if a patrol came by? She prayed to whatever God was present in this Godless land that, for its own good, the baby was stillborn.

Why would anyone want to bring a new life into this world of hate and depravity? A world of death and oppression, destruction and pain? A world of war? Not Madelyn. If she survived this war, and the likelihood of which was diminishing rapidly with every minute spent in the woods, she would never have children. Not when she knew what one human was capable of doing to another. What a father was willing to do to his son.

She thought of Charles and a resounding shudder of pain shook through her bones. How long had it been? How long had he been dead? Two days. It had felt like an eternity since they embraced for the last time, and she still had to fight tears.

She wouldn't allow herself to think about Donny. Not yet, anyway. Not until she was back in England. Here there was an opportunity to turn back and try to find him.

They had begun walking again and Nikolai approached her, speaking in a hushed tone. "The father of her baby was killed in the camp. I was his best friend and I swore to protect her. I am sorry that we didn't tell you sooner, we weren't sure we could trust you." He looked at her apologetically. Nikolai had long, thin limbs and a tall, lean body. His red hair was shaggy and unruly and his blue eyes shone with optimism.

"What makes you so sure you can trust me now?" she glanced sideways at him.

"The look on your face when you saw her belly. You looked…hopeful." He explained, searching for the right word.

Hopeful.

That wasn't the word Madelyn would assign herself at the moment.

* * *

Three nights later, Madelyn awoke to Katya's screams filling the night air. She saw that Tonya and Malachi were already awake, Tonya holding her hand and Malachi preparing her for delivery. Madelyn shook Nikolai awake and he awakened Hamisch, who had been a doctor in St. Petersburg. How they hadn't heard the screams she didn't know, but there wasn't time to figure out.

Madelyn had gleaned that Malachi and Hamisch were father and son that had a small practice together. Tonya was Malachi's sister and had taken Katya under her wing in the camp after she found out her situation. Katya had refused to leave without Nikolai. Madelyn had requested not to know anymore about their escape, should they be captured and tortured. She didn't want to damn an entire barracks by telling the Germans how these five Russians escaped.

Katya was biting down on a rag at this point with Tonya and Nikolai holding each of her hands, Malachi holding one of her knees up and Hamisch in a position to guide the child out. Madelyn hoisted her other leg up, worried at how light it was.

Katya pushed and Madelyn squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to hear the screams of the child. Nothing came. Katya pushed one final time, and the baby was out. By torchlight the troupe discovered that the baby was stillborn.

Madelyn immediately wished she hadn't thought that exact thought only days before. Looking on the infant's blue skin, its eyes closed for forever, she wished it would wake up. Katya's screams of emotional pain ripped through the silence as Hamisch told her the horrific news.

She screamed something in Russian and Malachi wrapped it in a blanket, handing it to Madelyn.

"She says she doesn't want to see it. Take it into the woods, leave it for the animals." His voice was melancholy but deadly serious.

Madelyn stood there for a minute, stunned at what he had said and the immense sadness she felt considering that she had never met the child. She considered for a moment that she was the cause of this, but dismissed it. She couldn't handle that much guilt.

She walked slowly into the dark woods, solely responsible for the child's funeral procession. She set it on the ground and covered it in the blanket. She wished it well in the afterlife and stood in silence until Nikolai came to find her. His pale skin and red hair shone in the moonlight.

"Katya's bleeding out." He said in a hurried, worried tone. Madelyn followed him, not once looking back at the small lump on the ground where she left the child.

On their short journey back Nikolai commented in a sad tone, "His name would have been Yuri, like his father."

"Let's do what we can to save his mother, then we can properly mourn him."

* * *

Landa kicked down the false door in the second safe house. Three pairs of eyes stared at him, full of fear, pleading for life. He pulled each one out of the dark hole in the wall and then proceeded to scour the inside of the hiding space, searching for any other hidden portal. There were none. He pounded his fists against the floor and screamed like a madman.

He hadn't slept in days, he hadn't eaten in longer. He had been searching for Madelyn since the second she escaped him and hadn't stopped for a moment. Not to rest, not to eat, not to kill the Jews that he found hiding in the safe houses. He learned the locations of the others from the old man that his her, but the other three men had escaped with her.

She was nowhere. He couldn't find her. That was impossible, he was the Furher's best detective, reputed for his ability to find missing persons. He wasn't about to let a traitor like Miss Murder slip through his fingers. Again.

"Next house." He said to his men as he got back into the car. He made a bargain with himself that he would look in only three more houses and then forget about her. She had bested him, but no others would. He would come back on the Jew-hunting scene with a greater bloodlust, a greater resolve, and a greater talent.

But if he found her, he would show no mercy. He would be as cruel to her as his imagination would allow and he would enjoy every second of it.

She was out there, he knew it. And he would find her. And he would torture her. And he would kill her.

* * *

Donny caught up with Stiglitz and Utivich two days after leaving Maddie in the woods. At maybe an hour before sunrise he had stomped out the embers and thudded over to where she had slept. He straightened her blanket and bent down, kissing her cheek before he left.

He had tortured himself all night with the decision, staring at her sleeping form for the duration. Finally he decided that her mind was made up and she was heading north. He tucked the map into her bag and silently wished her good luck, not knowing if he would ever see her again.

He only turned around once, when he was about three paces away from her. Her back was to him so all he saw was her body shape under the blanket and her blonde hair. He shook his head and walked away. He and Stiglitz and Utivich had agreed to meet in Krakow in three days, and he had a lot of ground to cover in that time.

Besides, Miss Murder could handle herself.

Right?


	17. Bad Luck and Back In

Try as they might, Katya wouldn't stop bleeding. She had bled out that night shortly after Maddie returned from the infant's mini-funeral in the woods. Nikolai was beside himself and refused to leave her body until late the next night. He had clearly loved her as more than his best friend's girlfriend. He was Madelyn's age, 21, only a month older. They would talk after the three older members of the troupe were asleep.

"The baby was meant to be an act of rebellion. Yuri, my friend, that is, not the baby, was from a wealthy family. Katya and I were servants in his family's Paris house, and I had loved her for years until Yuri took interest in her. He proposed to her and they made the baby shortly before we were all taken into custody." He explained to her over the small fire one night.

She reached over and put her hand on his. He gripped it and wept quietly. He had lost his love, she had lost hers. They were kindred spirits. If they survived this, she would insist he live with her in her grandparent's house in London.

Next to go was Malachi. He was old and age took him peacefully in his sleep one night while Madelyn and Nikolai held hands and wept. Hamisch was upset, but didn't show it. He was a fairly private person, but from what Madelyn had overheard between him and his aunt, he and his father didn't have a good relationship. Before they left St. Petersburg, their practice had been in shambles because of Malachi's incessant gambling and drinking.

Within a week of Malachi's demise they reached the Baltic Sea. It took her only three days to find a ship to take them to England. The HMS Bandolier sailed the next day for Scotland, but couldn't go any farther south than that in case of German attack.

They were on the boat when Tonya came down with pneumonia. Hamisch tended to his aunt with great care, aided by Nikolai and Madelyn. As was the pattern their best efforts failed because, even with the ship's antibiotics, Tonya passed away merely hours before they reached Scotland. This time, Hamisch openly cried. He did so in private, but Nikolai and Madelyn could hear him through the thin metal walls.

"Land ho!"

The cry sent Madelyn's heart fluttering. She rushed to the starboard side of the deck and, sure enough, there was the coastline of Scotland. She fondly remembered summers spent with her mother and grandparents and brother running about on the moors, hurdling sheep and outrunning angry shepherds. At this point, she let herself cry. She cried for Katya, Malachi, and Tonya. She cried for Charles. She cried for her mother and grandparents. She cried for Donny.

But she only shed one tear. Nikolai hugged her tightly and thanked her profusely as they neared the coast.

She was almost home.

* * *

A week later they arrived in London at a small, dingy pub on Fleet Street. Maddie left her bag with the two men and sat at the bar, asking for Jack Flannigan. Jack had been a friend of Charles's that Madelyn had entrusted with the care of her grandparent's house until her return.

"Well ain't you a sight fo' sore eyes." Jack said in his thick Irish accent. Maddie looked up at him. His green eyes still danced with Irish vigor and his flaming red hair still made his heritage clear.

"Hi Jack. How have you been?" she asked, smiling up at him as he poured her a beer.

"That's all you've got to say? After two bloody years?" he set the pint glass down in front of her and she took a sip.

"You know what I came for." She looked at him expectantly and he reached into his pocket, fishing for the key. He produced it with his amateur magician skill, making it look as if it came out of thin air. She smiled and stood, kissing him on the cheek.

"Come over tomorrow and I'll tell you all about it." She whispered to him as she returned to her escorts.

She enlisted as a nurse at a nearby army hospital, and she enjoyed the work she did. She worked with airmen, mostly, and some infantry members that were lucky to have survived the transportation back. If only Donny could see her now, saving lives instead of taking them. Every soldier that passed through her care reminded her of him and for the first few months it was hard for her to keep composure, especially around the exceptionally wounded.

Her birthday came to pass in November and Hamisch and Nikolai had thrown her an impromptu party with them and Jack and a few nurse friends she had made in the hospital. Jack had been kind enough to give Nikolai a job in the pub and Hamisch was a doctor at the hospital where Madelyn worked. Their lives, for the time being, were as normal as they supposed they could ever get.

Jack had been stunned at her story, but believed it. He found it hard to doubt, especially with two men from her escape troupe sitting in the next room. He was also saddened by Charles's death and they cried together briefly.

In early December, nearly one month after her twenty-first birthday, she received a summons from a General Ed Fenech for the next afternoon. She wore her nurse's uniform to the meeting and walked in. The large room was mostly empty except for a large globe, a dining room set, and a map of the Third Reich.

"Lieutenant Madelyn Rowley." She reported herself to the squat, aging man standing a few paces from the doorway.

"General Ed Fenech. Please, have a seat Lieutenant." He ushered her over to the dining set and pulled out her chair for her.

"Would you like a drink?" the General asked and she shook her head.

"Now, I bet you're wondering why I summoned you here." He said, opening the globe and pouring himself something on the rocks.

"Yes, in fact I was."

He sat down in front of her and opened a folder that seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Well, it says here that you are fluent in German. In fact, you're an ex-German citizen, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir." She got nervous, unsure she would like where this was leading.

"Does the name Bridget von Hammersmark mean anything to you?" again, she confirmed. "Well, it seems that she is looking for a partner to operate under the guise as her personal assistant. You see, she brings this matter to me because she has been working for us for the last year. Naturally, we would need a female, preferably Aryan, who is fluent in German, and who is young. You are among the handful of candidates."

"I'm sorry, sir, but what exactly would I have to do?" she was scared, practically quivering in her seat. She just got out of the Reich, and now they wanted her to go back in? No way.

"You would be parachuted into France, about twenty kilometers outside of Paris, where you would meet up with Ms. von Hammersmark and you would aid her in her exploits. You would work as her assistant by day, partner by night. So, what do you say?" the General was smiling at her as if she should be excited about this.

"I'm sorry, General, I can't." she blurted.

"And why ever not, Lieutenant?"

She sighed. "I have a very important Nazi quite angry at me. He also happens to be the Reich's best detective."

"And how did this come into being?" Fenech was determined for her to be the one to go to Paris and wouldn't let her slip through his fingers.

So Madelyn told her exciting story of her interlude in the Reich a second time, and an hour passed before she finished even though she left out the Nazi-killing and the whole Donny situation. The General was stunned.

"What if we could offer you protection? A new identity of sorts. One this Jew Hunter has never heard." This had been part of the original plan, but Fenech added the spin on it to make her more inclined to agree.

Madelyn thought. Working with a British spy could get her found and killed by Hans Landa, but it was also a chance to see Donny again. She could also cut her hair (it had gotten quite long, down to her mid-back). She would return to the Reich a different woman than when she entered, and there was no way in hell she would let Landa find her.

"I'm in." she said, extending her hand for the General to shake.

* * *

In the five months since he left Maddie in the woods, Donny had ceased to exist. He was now fully Bear Jew. He was always ready to volunteer on dangerous Nazi-killing missions and enjoyed them thoroughly. He had also taken a liking to the theatrics while he killed Nazis. His favorite was when he hid in a tunnel and tapped his bat on the wall, making it echo before he emerged. In addition, he now narrated his murders as if he was a great baseball star.

Raine was entertained by these performances, but deep down knew that Donny had gone off the deep end. If this presented a problem Raine would take care of it, but it hadn't so far so he let the boy have his fun. It was like going to the movies.

In December the Basterds were ordered back to France. They were going to tour the country from La Rochelle to the Loire Valley and then remain stationed in Paris for the remainder of the war (or until their commanding officer changed his mind). They spent New Year's 1943 doing what they did best, Killin' Nazis.

It was about eleven-thirty when they had narrowed down their victims to just two survivors. Hirschberg poked one in the back with his gun to move the trembling man forward to Raine.

"English?" Raine asked, breath condensing in the air.

"Nein." The soldier replied. Hirschberg knelt next to him and translated what Raine said.

"Now, we don't know what's in this nice big truck o' yours. We could just open it up and see for ourselves, but we decided to do you a courtesy in keepin' you alive so you could have the pleasure of tellin' us exactly what is in that mother fuckin' truck and where y'all were bringin' it."

The soldier babbled in German and Hirschberg reported that in the truck were basic supplies like rations, blankets, and some weapons. The supplies were heading to the north coast of Bretagne.

"What kinda weapons?" Raine asked.

"Guns and ammo, two big guns, about fifteen Walthers." Hirschberg accounted on the soldier's behalf.

"We're gonna commandeer said weapons. Thanks fer yer help." Raine stood, nodding up at Stiglitz who opened fire on the soldier while Raine walked to his cohort. Wicki helped the man to his feet with the butt of his rifle below one shoulder blade.

"He speaks English." Wicki said as the man did a face plant onto the snow-covered ground. The Basterds laughed until Raine held up his hand to silence them. Raine would have gone through his whole schbiel about how he couldn't abide the soldier taking off his uniform, but it was New Year's Eve and they had stolen champagne to enjoy.

Instead, he just flipped the man over and went at it, the blood from the fresh cuts falling onto the white snow. When he finished, he called Donny out of the tree he was hiding in.

The Bear Jew inspected the work, "That's pretty damn good, Sir. Nice and deep."

"Why thank you. Now, boys, we celebrate! It's 1943 goddammit!" he shouted to the awaiting Basterds who cheered and popped champagne bottles.

* * *

Madelyn spent her New Year's Eve 1943 in a plane with a parachute strapped to her back. She was nervously trying to remember what General Fenech had told her. She was to meet Ms. Von Hammersmark at La Louisianne, a small basement pub in the town of Nadine. Her new name was Liesel Schwarz and her previously long hair had been cut to shoulder-length. Her new identity papers were tucked in the sole of her left shoe and she repeated the name of the bar in her head a million times.

Her departure from the London house had been hard to explain to Hamisch and Nikolai, both of whom had received clearance from Fenech. It was hard for Madelyn to tell them that she had to go back. The three escapees had become an impromptu family, and Madelyn loved each one like she had her brother. They accepted her impending departure slowly but surely and had hugged her tightly and wished her good luck at the front door of their home.

Saying goodbye to Jack had been much harder. He wouldn't accept that she was leaving again, especially now that Charles was dead. In his opinion she had no business going back. He hadn't talked to her for three weeks and had only shown up at the last minute to tell her goodbye.

"Same thing I said last time…take care o' yourself and make sure to come back in one piece." He replied when she asked him what he was going to say.

She deployed her parachute and hit the ground with a thud and only one thought on her mind. She could see the town in the distance and knew where to go.

La Louisianne.


	18. Bridget

La Louisianne was dingy and smelled damp. At least it's warm, Madelyn thought as she looked around casually. A beautiful blonde woman stood and waved at her from across the room. Madelyn recognized her instantly.

"Liesel, my love! What took you so long?" she asked in German. There were two other patrons in the bar and the owner.

"The snow, my dear, the snow! It is coming down like you wouldn't believe!" Madelyn glided over to her and kissing Bridget von Hammersmark on both cheeks. She was even more beautiful in person than on the screen. They sat and ordered more champagne, continuing to talk in hushed voices.

"So, you're who Fenech decided to send me?" she asked in English. Madelyn didn't particularly like her tone and a look of worry must have crossed her face. "Don't worry, no one else in the bar speaks English. I've checked."

"Yes. My real name is Madelyn Rowley, formerly Amsel-."

"You were married?" Bridget assumed, offering her a cigarette. Madelyn had picked up the habit in Paris, but dropped it as soon as she killed her first Nazi. She accepted it and took the offered light from the large, bald barkeep as he poured them more champagne.

"No, I use my mother's maiden name since I absolutely detest my father." She inhaled and exhaled the smoke, which wafted up and made odd-shaped curls.

"Well, I thought they would send me someone less attractive, someone that looked like a grumpy old house Frau, but you have an excellent Aryan look. The Germans will buy it. They might even think we're related." Bridget smiled as she smoked. Madelyn thanked her for the compliment.

"I know they will buy it. I was here before." Madelyn said as she sipped her champagne.

"More on that later. Now we must start on our way back to Paris before the roads get too snowy." She stood and stamped out her half-finished cigarette before switching back to German. "I know you want to stay for a drink, but if it is truly snowing as hard as you say it is, we must be on our way. Good night, Eric, put it on my tab." She said as she swiftly put on her very fashionable coat and hat. Since Madelyn didn't have any bags with her except the medium-sized messenger bag hanging at her hip, Bridget felt no need to ask if she needed assistance with anything.

In the bag were Madelyn's new falsified papers, a change of clothes, a small wad of cash, and a map of Paris and the surrounding area had she gotten lost. The bag now sat between the two women as they rode silently back into the large lit-up city. It was well past midnight now, but the streets still rang with the noise of the parties that raged on.

She marveled at how much she had missed the city in the few months she had been gone. It seemed like only yesterday that Marie was yelling at her to go sweep out the back room or clean the double boilers. She had loved Paris then. Now, she was unsure of so much that the love she once felt for it was insignificant to the dread that lived in the pit of her stomach.

The driver stopped not five blocks away from the Arc de Triomphe on the Champs-Elysses in front of a very formidable and chic looking house. It was three stories tall and four windows wide on each floor. The swastika flag hung from a pole attached to the roof, at which Madelyn had to grit her teeth to prevent herself from screaming her tirade against the Nazi Party.

Once they were inside the house, Bridget took off her coat and hat and turned on her heel towards Madelyn.

"You said you were here before, explain that." She said sharply, placing her well-manicured hands on her hips.

"I came to Paris in 1940 to find my brother. I only left last year once I found out he was in Poland. He died before I could get to him." She lied, not completely sure she could trust the famous German movie star with a swastika hanging from her house.

Bridget must've sensed this because she said, "You are lying. Now, I know we just met and all but one thing you must do is trust me. We will not survive this war if we don't trust each other completely. Now, what happened when you were here before?"

"The part about my brother is true, except I left because I was killing Nazis. I was Miss Murder and a group of American soldiers found me. The Basterds." Madelyn paused and looked at Bridget's expression. She was confounded.

"You mean to tell me that The Basterds are real?" she said incredulously, "The rumors are true?"

"Yes. I was with them for about two months before I left. I went to Poland and found my brother, but then an SS guard found me and held me prisoner. A few members of the Basterds and my brother came to save me. He was shot in the attempt. I was on the run for the next few weeks with some escaped Russians before I got back to England. I became an Army nurse and Fenech found me. The rest you know. At least, that's the abridged version." Madelyn explained, also shedding her coat.

"Yes, I suppose abridged is all we have time for tonight. We should get to sleep. I introduce you into German society tomorrow. I'll show you to your room." Bridget led her up a staircase. Her room was the door at the end of the hall, Madelyn's was the last door on the left, right next to the movie star's bedroom.

"During the day, do not be offended by my behavior. Your façade as my personal assistant will be more believable if I act as your superior. And, I must ask, will men be a problem?" Madelyn was caught off guard by her question, but knew the answer.

"No. The last man I loved left me to fend for myself in the woods with the SS after me. I have no desire to love anymore." Madelyn answered in a stony voice. She had come to this conclusion after accepting the job, although seeing Donny had been a major factor in her choice to take it. Now her mind was focused on taking down the people responsible for the loss of her brother, and she figured there was no better way to do it than from the inside. Whether she ever saw Donny again or not, she didn't care.

"Alright. Good night then. We are meeting an SS colonel in the morning for breakfast, so you will want to wake up early." Bridget informed her as she headed to her bedroom door.

A large red flag went up in Madelyn's head.

"What is his name?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Bridget turned and faced her, "Hans Landa. He is a friend of mine and just returned from Poland last week. Well, good night. " she opened her door and started to enter.

Madelyn's face turned as white as the snow outside. "I forgot to mention something, Frau von-."

"Bridget, please, and what is it?" she poked her famous head out from behind the door.

"I got an SS colonel very mad at me last time I was here. He knew I was killing Nazis and he was the one that kept me prisoner. His name was Hans Landa." She explained in a panicky voice, leaning against the doorframe slightly for support.

"You are the one that he met in Munich, aren't you?" she asked, having heard Hans talk about her incessantly at one too many parties. She was, as he called her, "the one that got away". He had fully intended on marrying her, but he told everyone that she was killed in an air raid the night he left for Poland. She decided to keep this tidbit from the already overwhelmed girl in front of her.

"Well. I guess I will call him and tell him we can't make it. We have both come down with horrible colds and don't want to risk getting him sick." She said, knowing that she would have to refine her excuse before she called him. Her cover would be blown if Landa recognized Madelyn, so she had to tread very carefully.

"No, you should go. If he was expecting me as well, tell him I'm running errands for you. If not, don't even bring me up. He is incredibly sharp. Never underestimate him." Madelyn said the last sentence in a dangerous voice, and Bridget knew that something more had happened than what the girl had told her.

"Alright. Now we should get some sleep. Good night, Madelyn."

"Good night, Bridget."

* * *

Madelyn couldn't sleep that night, so she decided to go out for a walk. It was around three am, which meant she would have to stick to the alleys to avoid being caught. She had always loved walking around Paris at night. The city was all lit up and seemed to sparkle. The chill night air brushed her cheeks and she burrowed farther into her coat.

"Hey! You!" a voice shouted from behind her, the harsh German words bouncing off of the surrounding buildings. Madelyn panicked and started running. The combination of heels and slippery snow under her feet did nothing to help her escape, and soon the Nazi was closing in on her.

She reached the end of the alley where a few garbage cans sat. Behind them was a broom with a long wooden handle. Thinking fast, she broke off a four foot section of the handle and swung it as the Nazi finally got within reach. She felt the handle contact a skull and heard a grunt. The Nazi collapsed in a heap on the snow, blood trickling out of his left temple where Maddie had hit.

She surged with adrenaline, finally realizing how much she had missed this. The power she felt at her ability to take another life, the satisfaction of ridding the world of yet another Nazi. He groaned and she hit him again, this time in the ribs. She continued to beat him, blood spilled from seemingly every pore, and when she was finally done she spat on his body. He was dead, but Miss Murder was fully alive again.

She tossed the broomstick into a nearby trash can and made her way back to the house on the Champs-Elysses.

She wouldn't tell Bridget. This was her little secret.

She plummeted into her bed and fell asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Her dreams that night were centered on killin' Nazis.

And what sweet dream they were.


	19. Breaking and Entering

About a month in Bridget and Madelyn received their first real mission from Fenech. It seemed simple enough. However, the mission produced less information than they all expected. There was to be a Valentine's Day Party for all of the Nazi Officers in Paris. Bridget and Madelyn were both invited and Fenech wanted them to gain as much information about the High Command as they could. Particularly about Goebbels, the Minister of Propaganda. He wanted to know of any future media-related events the Nazis might hold. x

This would be Madelyn's first big Nazi event. She had been ingratiated slowly but surely by Bridget, who worked her like a dog during their public appearances, demanding more water, less sunlight, or other petty things. However, at night when she was acting as partner, she was the one to come up with most of their plans of attack.

The plan was simple enough. They would get into the party and keep a low profile until things died down, when Bridget would send Madelyn away to fetch the driver. In all reality, Madelyn would slip away to the record room and get as much information as she could. It wasn't a particularly exciting plan, but it was a low-key mission to begin with. Madelyn wasn't getting her hopes up about finding much, however, because she figured the Nazis most likely kept Goebbels' main file in Berlin.

Madelyn and Bridget made sure to look good for the event, especially because the flirtier they were with the officers, the easier it would be to gain word-of-mouth about the Propaganda minister.

The party was held in the Great Hall of Nazi Headquarters, which was dressed up from its usual drabness with streamers and banners. It looked festive enough, and the color that the decorations brought was a major improvement to the space. Bridget soon found a niche, and Madelyn obediently stayed by her side.

A few officers and their dates were gathered around Bridget and Madelyn for a while before one brazen private marched right up to Bridget, took her hand and kissed it.

"Frau von Hammersmark, I am Gustaf Fleischer, Private First-Class. Would it be so bold of me as to ask for a dance?" the handsome, tar-black haired boy asked.

Bridget feigned coyness and nodded, letting herself be led away from the group and to the dance floor. A small band was playing "La Vie En Rose", Madelyn's favorite song. It reminded her not only of the city that she loved so much but of her own self-disputed desire to see Donny again. She had gone for months without thinking about him, but tonight, the most romantic of all nights, and the song, the most romantic of all songs, reminded her of his sudden departure.

She swallowed all the feelings of anger, hatred, pain and sadness and let herself sway to the music.

* * *

Hours later, the party had died down and there were only a few commanders and colonels and their dates left talking to them, along with Gustaf, who hadn't left Bridget's side since they both came off the dance floor, breathless and laughing. Bridget shot Madelyn a look that meant she was to duck out now as she clung onto Gustaf's arm, stroking his inner forearm sensually.

"Excuse me, everyone, but I have to go fetch the driver. I'll be back in a moment." She excused herself quietly. Not many people in the group noticed because they were drunk, so her departure was largely unnoticed. Save for one.

Madelyn checked the hall thoroughly for any sign of life. There were none, so she went to the door marked 'Rekordzimmer'. She knelt down and from her small purse extracted two thin pieces of metal that she used to open doors. She stuck in one and felt for the pin, found it, and stuck in the other and turned until she heard a small 'click' that signaled her ability to enter.

She slipped in and shut the door, walking over to a file cabinet marked 'G'. She slid it open and searched for the name of the Propaganda minister.

He wasn't there.

He was nowhere. Madelyn checked every damn file in every damn cabinet but there was no information about the High Command, only the SS and Whermacht soldiers stationed in Paris. She kicked the cabinets and cursed. As she was facing away from the door, the sound of the knob turning nearly stopped her heart.

She whirled around and ducked behind the desk, peeking over as the door slowly opened. A man entered, one certain Private First Class. She hid herself as completely as she could, but he must've seen her because he said, "I know you are in here, Fraulein Schwarz. I saw you come in."

Madelyn stayed where she was, hoping he would believe that he had been mistaken, but no such luck. He stayed where he was and Madelyn heard the series of clicks that meant he was handling his gun. She heard the metal object hit the desk she was hiding behind.

"My gun is empty and out of arm's reach. You can come out now." He said. Madelyn considered. He didn't sound drunk, he sounded sincere. So she slowly rose to her feet, facing him.

"Alright, you caught me. Why not shoot me and make the Fürher proud?" she asked, looking to the gun on the desk while raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. Gustaf surprised her by laughing.

"Why kill you when I could do this?" he said as he quickly closed the space between them, sliding his arm around her and pulling her far too close for comfort.

"What about Frau vo-?" she was interrupted by his mouth forcefully crashing onto hers. She struggled against his tight grip, tried to push him away, but he was too strong and easily overpowered her.

"Shut up, or I will oust you as a spy and get you killed." He pushed their bodies against the wall, sandwiching Madelyn. Her leg hit the desk, and something on the top rattled. Madelyn glanced down and saw various office supplies, but a glint of light on the blade of a letter opener caught her eye first.

She grabbed for it, but it lay just out of her reach. The only way to get it was to disengage her mouth from Gustaf's. This was easier than she thought, because he occupied himself with her neck when she moved her head away without protest.

Her fingers closed around the smooth wooden handle and she flipped it around into a stabbing position, driving the golden blade into Gustaf's back. The sickening crunch of metal hitting bone, a cry of pain as he disengaged himself from her neck, and Madelyn's heels clacking quickly around Gustaf's back were the only sounds. She pulled the letter opener out of his back and stabbed him again, and again, and again. Finally, when she was done playing and he was on the ground, blood pooling around his body, Miss Murder buried the letter opener up to the hilt in his skull.

Madelyn peeked out the door into the long, dark hallway. No sign of anyone, so she straightened herself out and walked calmly back to the party.

"The driver is here, it's time to go." She informed Bridget in a level voice, not pausing as she passed Bridget. Bridget complied because she could tell by the tone in Madelyn's voice something was wrong, wishing the best to various officers that were still around as she left.

Madelyn got away with it.

For now.

* * *

Two days later, the murder of Gustaf Fleischer was on the front page. The Gestapo assumed it was the work of renegade Jews or Jew sympathizers. Miss Murder wasn't even mentioned. No one at the party was suspected, but after two Gestapo officers questioned Bridget and Madelyn, Maddie's free ride was over.

Bridget turned around from the doorway of the kitchen after seeing the officers to the door and stared Madelyn down.

"You know something about this." She accused. It was a statement, not a question. Madelyn knew she was serious when she crossed her arms.

"I do." Madelyn saw no use in hiding the fact that Miss Murder had come back better than ever. Killing a Nazi at his own party, clever girl. They didn't suspect her, she supposed, because Miss Murder's killings were always left on the street.

"Let me say this now. Killing Nazis is forbidden as long as you are undercover. You could blow our whole operation out of the water if you are discovered. It is simply too dangerous, and I can't let you continue to do it." This was typical of Bridget, calm and collected but with a viciously dangerous undertone.

"I understand, but it's not like I can control it." Madelyn got up and brought her plate over to the sink.

"What? That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"It's second nature to me now. Once a Nazi starts harassing me my only option, no, my only instinct is to kill him. It sounds crazy, but it's true. I've been killing Nazis for over a year now, and it feels…natural." She sighed. "When I was with the Basterds, I couldn't leave my post for about three weeks. And once I did, I lost it. I went crazy, I was bloodthirsty, and then I tried to kill and almost got myself killed. To prevent that from happening again, I need to do this. I need to do what feels right."

"I can't let you. It is simply too dangerous."

"Please, Bridget, don't make me-."

"Shut up! You sound like a crazy person!" Bridget raised her voice, the first signal that meant she was getting very frustrated. Madelyn got frustrated that Bridget would never ever admit that she was mad.

"I am a crazy person, don't you see that?" Madelyn yelled back. At least she would admit when she was mad. "Bridget, I don't expect you to understand, but I want you to," she sighed, looking at the blue tiles on the floor, "What if I kept the knife on me and only used it when necessary?" she skipped straight to bargaining because she knew Bridget was sick of hearing her argument.

Bridget raised her eyebrows. "I don't think I trust your judgment of 'necessary'."

"Only when my life is in immediate danger. When I know one-hundred percent I will be killed if I don't retaliate." Madelyn was practically begging. She felt dirty, but she knew it was necessary.

Bridget considered. Madelyn grew nervous.

"We should inform Fenech, he'll have the final say." She said as she left the room. Madelyn's spirits fell, but she tried to stay positive.

It was a start, at least. Fenech liked her, understood why she did what she did. Madelyn thought he secretly endorsed what she did. He wouldn't approve of her going on a killing spree, but she just might be able to slide with this "only when necessary" thing.

She could only hope.


	20. Blackened

It was a beautiful spring morning in Paris, 1943. Madelyn and Bridget were still in their pajamas, sipping coffee and eating breakfast when the doorbell rang. Madelyn, as the dutiful assistant, got up and answered it. A young messenger's hand jutted out and handed her a cream colored envelope with immaculate calligraphy on it.

"A message for Frau von Hammersmark and Fraulein Schwarz from the Fürher. Sign here." He said tersely. Madelyn took the letter and signed. After closing the door, she slid her finger gently under the wax impression of the Nazi eagle. Her whole body shook as she read the impeccably embossed invitation.

'Bridget von Hammersmark, you and one guest are cordially invited to spend the weekend of May 24th in Berchtesgaden for the Fürher and Minister Goebbels' First Annual Film Society Appreciation Days. Enclosed is a detailed itinerary of events, along with a dress code. Indicate your intent to attend by the 9th of May.'

She showed the invite to Bridget, who had a much more calm reaction than Maddie did. She calmly sipped her coffee as she read, her blue eyes scanning the page. She put it down and looked over to Madelyn across the table.

"We must go. We must also get word to Fenech about our location that weekend." She said, lifting a croissant to her pink lips.

"What's our plan?" Madelyn asked anxiously.

"Our plan is go. That's it."

"What, are you joking? This is our chance to-!"

"No, we will make no move to kill, injure, maim, or otherwise hurt anyone. This is our chance to show the German Film Society that we are completely normal, that we are not people to be suspicious of. Which is why you will not leave my sight the entire time."

"What? Why?"

"I can't trust your temper. From what I've heard of Miss Murder, it takes nothing to set her off and we can't risk having her come out and blowing our cover. Especially not in such close proximity to the Fürher, we'd be shot on sight! I know Fenech approved your stupid idea and gave you the right to kill when you felt it was necessary, but that doesn't mean I approve." Bridget had completely separated Madelyn and Miss Murder, as if they were two completely different people instead of one and the same. She also was not a fan of Fenech's approval.

Fenech had allowed Madelyn up to five Nazis a month, but only in situations when her life was in danger. She could not step up on anyone else's behalf and had to inform Fenech of her kills, as well as take the i.d. tags of every German she killed and mail them to Fenech. For posterity's sake.

Madelyn had stolen a knife that resembled Raine's and now constantly had it strapped around her upper thigh. So far she had used it to slit three throats, although she could have slit fifteen under Fenech's rules. She now pulled it out and placed the sharp point onto the table, refracting the light with the blade.

Bridget only stared at her, "You think that intimidates me?"

"No," Madelyn replied, "I just like the way it looks." What she really thought was how much it reminded her of her brief time with the Basterds, and how much she missed the laissez-faire guerilla warfare. Instead she was stuck in the structured routine of the same thing day after day after day. She was dying of boredom and she felt like a child again.

"So, what does one wear to meet the Fürher?" she asked after a silence, smiling over the knife to Bridget.

* * *

A few weeks later, on a Saturday to be precise, was one of Madelyn's very few days off. She would use these days to explore the city and see how it had changed. For example, her old apartment building was now being used to house Gestapo officers. A few of her favorite stores had been taken over by the Germans and commissioned to support the Reich in one way or another.

The only place she hadn't been was the place she was heading to now. Le Petit Confectionaire, the little sweet shop that she worked in during her first two years behind enemy lines. She walked, seeing as how it was a beautiful day outside. She was confident that it would still be in business because Marie was half German and the Germans liked her candy.

As she approached, her pace quickened. She was excited to finally see Marie, who had been a sort of mentor her first few years in France. She was practically skipping down the sidewalk, earning her strange looks from those she passed.

She skidded to a stop when she saw what the façade of the building now had graphitized all over it.

'Jew Slave'

'Traitor'

'Death to the Jew Witch'

The front display window was smashed in, and no one had bothered to fix it. It also had the appearance of being burned. The front counter, the walls, and what was left of the window were scorched. So the Germans hadn't taken over it. Yet. Madelyn stood, horrified, and tried to figure out what happened in her year-long absence.

"She was hiding Jews." An old, crackly voice said from behind her. She whirled around and saw an old woman hunched over on a bench across the narrow street. The woman got up and hobbled over to where Madelyn stood.

"Excuse me?" Madelyn asked, not quite comprehending what she had said.

"Marie. The woman that owned that store. She was hiding Jews in the back room. The Germans found out a month ago and shot her on sight. No trial, no word in her defense. They just shot her." The woman explained.

"How do you know this?" Madelyn asked again.

"I've been coming here for years. Even before Marie owned it. She was such a sweet woman, always remembered me. I remember you as well, my dear. You worked in the back most of the time. In my opinion, your éclairs were the best." The old woman winked and patted Madelyn's arm.

Another one. The Nazis got yet another person Madelyn had cared about. Would they never stop? Rage boiled inside Madelyn as she thanked the old woman and walked away briskly.

She couldn't win. For every Nazi she killed, there seemed to be ten more to take his place. It also seemed that they knew she was Miss Murder and purposely killed the people she cared about.

Bridget was right. She needed to stop. This Miss Murder thing had gone too far. She was bound to be caught, if not now, soon.

But she couldn't stop. Miss Murder did a service to all Nazi-haters. She killed them, scared them, made them wary of going out at night alone. She was doing the world a favor by ridding it of Nazi swine.

She felt conflicted. Her head began to hurt. She quickly diverted herself into the closest café she could find and ordered an espresso. She sipped slowly, trying to calm herself down. It wasn't working. Especially not since the café she was in was swarming with Nazis.

She paid and left, not bothering to finish her drink or her internal battle.

* * *

Madelyn was still stewing about it the next day when she and Bridget left for Berchtesgaden. They would be staying the week in the small German town in anticipation of the event, which began the next Friday evening. She sat in her seat next to Bridget, fidgeting and annoying the movie star. Bridget shot her a look and she stopped briefly. She started again about an hour outside Paris. They were passing through a heavily wooded area when Madelyn shouted to the driver, "Stop the car!"

He obliged and pulled over, but Madelyn was out of the car before it fully stopped. She bounded into the woods until she couldn't see the black automobile, despite Bridget's cries for her to return.

She stopped in a small clearing and pulled her pocketknife out of her pocket, flipping it open and twirling it around and around while she spun herself in a slow circle, searching through the trees. All of a sudden, she screamed in frustration and dove for a tree, burying the pocketknife into the trunk up to the hilt.

She spun on her heel and left the knife, feeling only slightly better.

* * *

The Basterds were setting up camp for the night when they heard the scream. Donny silently picked up his bat and headed in the direction of the disturbance, nodding to Raine.

About an hour later, he returned with nothing but a small pocketknife that he found stuck in a tree. He didn't know why, but he decided to keep it.

* * *

A Note: I'm sorry for not updating often! I will try to conclude Mademoiselle Meurtre by Chapter 25, and then maybe start a sequel. All those in favor of the sequel, please let me know!

Meghan


	21. Berchtesgaden

Berchtesgaden was even more beautiful than Madelyn had imagined. The Eagle's Nest, where most of the parties that weekend would take place, was set atop a picturesque mountain that rose above a beautiful blue lake. That night the Fürher was hosting a gala event for all German Film Society in attendance in the Eagle's Nest. Madelyn was excited to see exactly who was going to be there, although Bridget had already confiscated all her knives.

Madelyn wore a tasteful green dress with short sleeves that just barely covered her shoulders and fell to her ankles. Bridget looked ravishing in a snug-fitting red dress that flared out in the back to create a short train. Because of the train, however, the two spies ended up being fifteen minutes late. They boarded the elevator in the mountain that was the only way up. A few other latecomers were standing with them. Two men, three women, all dressed to the nines. It was a long way up, and the people chattering behind them were driving Madelyn crazy.

The small road leading to the divine house was paved with pale lights and SS guards. Although the house itself wasn't too aesthetically pleasing, the lights playing off the tops of nearby mountains combined with the ethereal glow of the stars to create a dazzling atmosphere. Once inside, Bridget and Madelyn nearly lost each other in the crowd.

They nodded to each other and Bridget relinquished her choke hold on Madelyn's leash. Madelyn made her way through the crowd, politely acknowledging the people she recognized as she made her way to the balcony. It was quite hot in the house, and Madelyn was slightly claustrophobic.

The view from up above was even more stunning than the one from below. The lights from the town below glittered off the moonlit lake, which reflected the stars and lights that surrounded it. Madelyn leaned her cheek against one palm and sighed dreamily.

"Champagne?" a voice asked from behind her. She stood up, turning in the direction of the voice, and she immediately wished she had kept her knives.

Standing in front of her with two glasses of champagne in his hands, wearing his signature wolfish grin, was Colonel Hans Landa.

It was all Madelyn could do not to scream. Or throw herself over the balcony. Or claw his eyes out.

In order to not look too suspicious, she took one of the glasses, but tossed its contents over the balcony for the mountain to enjoy.

"Now, now my dear, don't be a sourpuss. I didn't poison it, if that's what you were thinking." He said as if he was a cat that had finally cornered the mouse. "Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me what you are doing here, I might not have to motion for my men to take you straight to the firing squad."

"Nice to meet you, Colonel. I am Liesel Schwarz, Bridget von Hammersmark's assistant." She said, putting on a show for those around them but trying to be discreet. She stuck out her hand and he kissed it politely, making Madelyn shudder and think back to their first meeting.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are enjoying your time here in Berchtesgaden, Fraülein Schwarz?" he asked, playing along. Madelyn could see the fire behind his eyes that meant he wanted her to burn. The tension between them was palpable, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh yes, it's a beautiful town. Frau von Hammersmark and I have been here all week." Madelyn was just trying to keep the conversation going to keep him from motioning one of his many SS guards over.

"I am sure, being Frau von Hammersmark's assistant, that you have attended many Nazi parties?" He was full of questions, which Madelyn found unnerving.

"Yes. A few." Madelyn averted her gaze to the sleepy little town below them, acting coy.

"So you have danced with Nazis?" he queried, Madelyn nodded, "Would you consider dancing with me?"

Madelyn looked up at him with a slight look of panic on her face, but took his outstretched hand and followed him to the dance floor. He held her a bit too tightly for her liking, but she didn't protest. His mouth ended up barely grazing her ear as they danced.

"I know what you're up to, Madelyn. If you so much as step out of-." He whispered in English, his breath hot on her ear.

"I am up to nothing. I have no weapons, search me if you need proof." She quickly whispered back.

"I assume you are acting on part of the Basterds, no?"

"No. I haven't seen the Basterds in months. They left me in the woods and I made my way to France. Bridget hired me; she knows nothing of my past." She explained quickly. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her first glimpse of the mighty Hitler, but Landa's grip on her was too tight for her to go settle in his entourage.

After a brief silence he chuckled softly and murmured, "Both you and I know that Miss Murder is not your past."

She disengaged herself from him and stared him in the eyes. She looked fearful, her pulse was racing, and she was enveloped in the crowd, but she kept holding the stare. Between them, a pact to finish this later passed. Madelyn broke the stare and rushed for the door.

She waited until she was walking away from the elevator and back to the hotel to start crying. He could ruin everything. She and Bridget would most definitely be killed. If Landa found out who their contacts were, they would all die.

She couldn't keep her thoughts focused as she entered her room. The room was adjoined to Bridget's by a door on their common wall, so she entered Bridget's room to straighten things up before she got back. She attributed this impulse to so many months of acting as assistant.

She wished she could escape. But she couldn't. Death was her life, so she might as well live.

* * *

At about half past midnight, Madelyn heard a soft knock on her door. She opened it to a still immaculate looking Hans, who greeted her with a pleasant kiss on the cheek as he entered her room.

"You said you don't know where the Basterds are." He said as he looked around the room. Typical of Hans, his assumptions sounded like questions. He used this to ferret out liars, she knew.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible. Whether or not that meant her death right then and there, she didn't know. She couldn't see where his handgun was hidden, but she knew instinctively that he had some sort of weapon on him.

"Absolutely nothing." Hans said, turning to face her with a smug smile on his face.

"You mean you're letting me go?" Madelyn was incredulous. She couldn't help but smiling herself.

"Yes, my dear, since you know nothing of the Basterd's location and they know nothing of yours, I see no reason to turn you in to the SS." He clasped his hands behind his back in the way that made him look important.

"But what about the dead Nazis in Paris?"

"Radical Jew sympathizers. As far as the High Command is concerned, Miss Murder has been apprehended by yours truly and dealt with in a manner befitting a traitor." He took a few steps closer to her, but she wasn't frightened. She barely even noticed.

"Well…thank you, Hans."

"You owe me a great debt. I spared your life." He took a few more steps closer, closing the gap between them, snaking his arms around her waist for a second time that night.

To her surprise, she kissed him first and pulled him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck. Again, to her surprise, he pulled away and grasped her wrists tightly. He held her away from his body and stared her down.

"No. I won't." he said. "I'm sorry, Miss Rowley, but I simply can't take advantage of you like this and still call myself a gentleman. I am afraid that I will have to bid you adieu."

And with that Hans Landa walked out of her life.

She hoped that this time it was for good.


	22. Brunch

The rest of the weekend passed by in a flurry of parties, galas, and screenings of Goebbels's latest propaganda films. Although she was acutely aware of his presence, Landa remained no where to be seen. Wednesday morning she and Bridget were invited to attend brunch with Goebbels and a few other cinema elite. They were heading back to Paris afterwards.

The brunch was in a small restaurant down the street from Bridget and Madelyn's hotel, so they walked. Despite the overcast sky, it was pleasantly warm as they strolled through the narrow German streets. Without Bridget knowing, Madelyn had strapped her large knife around her thigh. Just in case.

"Ah! Frau von Hammersmark! And young Liesel! How good of you to come!" shouted Goebbels as he stood up from the table, greeting them with arms spread wide.

Sitting at the round table were two men and a woman. The men were Emil Jannings and a young, handsome man that Madelyn didn't recognize. The woman was Francesca Mondino, who Madelyn and Bridget had become acquainted with over the last few days.

"Bridget, surely you remember Emil Jannings." Goebbels introduced the two and they exchanged brief pleasantries. Madelyn hid a cringe as the rotund Jannings' lips grazed her knuckles.

"And it is my great pleasure to introduce to you Fredrick Zoller." The young man stood up and kissed their hands, lingering for just a moment more on Madelyn's.

"_The_ Fredrick Zoller? You're him?" Bridget asked incredulously.

The front pages of all the German newspapers were plastered with stories of the Great Fredrick Zoller, war hero, for about three weeks now. There were follow up stories, interviews with his family and friends, all of the unnecessary hoopla that went into creating a martyr for the cause.

Madelyn would have none of it.

But still, Madelyn held out her hand politely and acted impressed when he regaled them with the story of his vanquishing of the enemy. She sat next to him, cheek on her hand as he finished.

"Wow, you would think that Minister Goebbels here would have made a movie of that already." She commented lightheartedly.

Goebbels' head cocked to the side, and he stared at her in wonderment. "That is an excellent idea, Fraulein Schwarz." He remarked.

Madelyn looked over to the rat-faced Minister and smiled coyly. "Whatever do you mean, Herr Doktor?"

He slammed his open palm on the table, rattling the dishes and making Bridget jump. "I will make a film of this young man's accomplishments! After all, what better to make this young man's triumph more well-known? Yes, I will make a film!" Goebbels was standing now, his voice growing louder. He pointed at Fredrick and shouted, "And you! You will star in it! Oh, Fraulein Schwarz, you should work for me, not Frau von Hammersmark! You're brilliant!"

He circled around the table and kissed Madelyn on both cheeks. She flushed and coyly declined his offer.

"No matter! I must get back to Berlin! So much to be done!" he declared.

"Herr Doktor, I will go with you. You're my ride." Emil said, bumping the table with his stomach as he rose to his feet and patted his mouth with his napkin. Francesca paused to say goodbye properly, but Herr Doktor barked for her. This left only Bridget, Madelyn, and Fredrick. Since brunch was over, Bridget and Madelyn excused themselves.

"Fraulein Schwarz?" Frederick asked as she got up, this being the first time he spoke directly to her all morning.

"Yes?"

"Might I call on you in Paris sometime? I would love to take you out to dinner some night." He said as he rose, a slight smile on his pristine face.

Madelyn smiled as well, "Of course you may, Private Zoller. I look forward to it."

As they walked back to the hotel, Bridget noticed a blush on Madelyn's cheeks.

"Falling for a Nazi, are we?" she asked the young girl, only half-joking. If she was, it would cause major problems with their mission.

"No, and I should kill you for insulting my honor like that." Madelyn's blush faded and her ice blue eyes turned steely. Bridget knew her well enough to back off, but also knew that she wouldn't.

"Right, you have the Basterd." She teased as they rounded the corner. Madelyn saw the hotel drawing nearer and ran for it, leaving Bridget behind with knowledge that she had hit a nerve.

As their checkout time was at three and it was not two-thirty, Madelyn began to check their rooms for anything they could have forgotten to pack. She was almost done with Bridget's room when the movie star came back.

"I never had him." Madelyn said, pulling a pair of stockings out of a dresser drawer. Bridget nodded knowingly, and offered to do the rest of the inspection herself.

Madelyn went back to her own room and sat on the bed, knowing that she had packed absolutely everything the night before when she couldn't sleep. She thought of Donny. His black hair shining in the sun, his strong arms delivering a death blow to a Nazi, his funny accent sounding even in his laugh. She missed him in spite of herself.

She would also never see him again, of that she was quite certain.

* * *

It would be three months before Fredrick Zoller made good on his promise to call on her in Paris. On a hot August day he brought her to La Granaar Movie Theater where they enjoyed a Leni Riefenstahl mountain film. He bought her popcorn and was a perfect gentleman throughout the film, only moving to hold her hand after she jumped at the sound of an explosion.

After the movie they walked out of the theater hand in hand and started aimlessly strolling the streets of Paris.

"What took you so long to call?" Madelyn asked, genuinely curious.

"The film business kept me away. You set something colossal into motion, Liesel! For the last three months we've been writing and rewriting the script, casting and recasting, well, not me of course, but the others. Like the American general. Doktor Goebbels doesn't want any important actors in the German film industry to play him because it might reflect poorly on him. The actor, not Doktor Goebbels. Why doesn't Bridget act anymore?" he rambled before looking to her for an answer.

"She's still on sabbatical. She'll return when she feels she is needed." Madelyn left out the fact Bridget's spy work would be impossible if she were on a film set all day, and that Bridget and director GW Pabst had had a rather large falling out whist making her last film.

"Well we miss her. She is a very talented woman." Fredrick smiled his contagious smile that Madelyn couldn't help but reciprocate.

"Yes, so she tells me." She joked and they laughed together.

As their laughter died down Fredrick's face grew a solemn hopefulness and he stopped them, looked Madelyn directly in the eyes and said, "I would love for you to come see me on the set. We start shooting in two weeks, and I want you to be there on the first day."

"What, me and all of your other girlfriends? That would be a little awkward, Fredrick." Madelyn said facetiously as she tried to continue walking. He kept holding her hand, effectively halting her progress so she was forced to turn around and address him once again.

"There is no one else, Liesel. You're it." Madelyn couldn't help but melt a little when she saw the sincerity on his face.

Madelyn, now almost completely comfortable in her guise as a dedicated daughter of the Reich, felt compelled by his sweetness to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'll have to see what Bridget says." She said, descending from her tiptoes. She looped her arm through his and they meandered back to her house, talking of the film and little else. On her doorstep Fredrick kissed her lips briefly before promising to see her within the next few days.

Despite herself, Madelyn was walking on air as she entered the house. Bridget sat unseen in the kitchen as Madelyn crossed to the icebox to get a glass of milk.

"You like him." Bridget stated, breaking the silence and startling Madelyn. The young girl spun around, nearly spilling the milk.

"Bridget, you scared me!"

"Answer me. Do you or do you not have a soft spot for Zoller?" Bridget had her arms crossed in front of her. She was staring at Madelyn with her head pointing down, making her stare all the more intense.

Madelyn didn't know the answer, so she answered with what she did know. "He has asked me to be on the set for the first few days of shooting. He says that I am the only girl he's after right now, and I know he's sincere."

"Stop dancing around it. Do you or-"

"Yes, okay? I like him! I like a Nazi! Where's a knife, I must perform the seven cuts of shame!" Madelyn cried out, tortured by herself. She didn't want to, but Fredrick was so handsome, so gentlemanly, so irresistible. Fredrick was her chance to have the relationship that she had wanted for so long. The relationship she had dreamed about back in the chocolate shop while Marie chastised her for being childish.

Bridget saw the look of pure anguish on the girl's face and nodded. "Good. Now that that is out of the way, you mentioned something about him wanting you to join him on set?"

Madelyn looked up from her crouched position on the tile floor. "Yes?"

"You're not going, of course, too much temptation for Miss Murder to appear, and without me there to chaperone you, well, we both know what would happen. No, instead you're going to get as close to him as possible. Create a relationship. After he leaves to shoot the film, you will write him a letter and break his heart."

"But how will that accomplish anything?" Madelyn stayed crouched as Bridget got up and bent down in front of her.

"Trust me, pain is the driving force behind an actor's talent. By breaking his heart, you'd be doing him a favor. Not only that, but you will guarantee that this film is the film that simply everyone important in the Third Reich must see the moment it comes out. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Bridget stared her down. Madelyn noticed that Bridget's eyes were smiling with the beginnings of a dazzling plan.

"We sabotage the premier. You're brilliant, have I told that?" Madelyn was smiling now, too.

Bridget replied smarmily, "No, but I knew it anyway."


	23. Being On Top

Two days after his first visit, Fredrick Zoller returned. He came with flowers, but not just any flowers. He brought white and pink Gerbera daisies, which happened to be Madelyn's favorite. He maintained that he had no idea they were her favorite, but when she went to the kitchen to put them in the vase she heard him thank Bridget for the advice.

She reentered the room with the bouquet in the vase and placed them on the coffee table in the living room. She kissed Fredrick on the cheek, but the kiss felt tainted. Now that she was only leading him on, a pang of remorse hit her in the stomach. She dismissed it by telling herself that having a relationship with this gorgeous man would be fun, even if it was all pretend.

As they left, Madelyn shouted, "Don't wait up" over her shoulder to Bridget, who only smiled and rolled her eyes.

"So what are we doing tonight?" she asked as they headed down the Champs-Elysses in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. The sun was low on the Parisian horizon and Madelyn was excited for their night to begin.

"You see that?" Fredrick asked, pointing at the Tower. Madelyn looked at him, confused.

"What? The Eiffel Tower?" she asked. He nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. We're going to have dinner on top of it." He was glad to be rid of the secret. He had exhaustively pulled some strings and dropped some names to get a private dinner on top of the most famous tower in the world. Tonight, it would be worth it. He was going to give her a night she would not be soon to forget. The look of surprise on her pretty face was almost worth the price.

"What? Are you kidding?" her grip on his hand tightened and he nodded, smiling as he brought their joined hands up to his lips. "How did you manage that?"

"It helps to be a war hero." Madelyn returned his smile as they approached the tower.

Madelyn had been to the Eiffel Tower before, but never been to the top. She was in absolute awe of the sun setting over the expanse of Paris. The city spread out before them like a blanket of fireflies for their early evening picnic.

Like the gentleman he was, Fredrick pulled out her chair for her and she sat, still gaping at the city. He sat across the small round table from her and put his chin on his fist, gazing at her. The waiter came by and Fredrick ordered a bottle of wine, which was delivered tout d'suite.

"Do you like the view?" he asked, finally breaking her trance.

"Yes, very much. How did you know I wasn't afraid of heights?" she asked, her gaze now fixed upon him in a seductive manner.

"I just had to hope you weren't. If I had guessed wrong, we would have gone elsewhere."

She laughed at this, "Where? It's Paris on a beautiful Friday night! Everywhere would have been full!"

"As I've said, ma Cherie, it helps to be a war hero." He smiled as he poured her some dark red wine. She, being Bridget's assistant, was no stranger to the taste of wine. Bridget often drank champagne in public, but wine and other spirits were her preferred drinks in private. Madelyn was not a large fan of alcohol because of the dreadful role it had played in her childhood, but she would take a sip every now and then.

"I talked to Bridget about coming to visit you on set." She mentioned after a sip of wine. Since she hadn't eaten since breakfast (Bridget decided to go shopping today), she could feel the woozying effect working its way through her veins at a faster than normal speed.

"Really? What did she say? Please tell me it's good news!" Fredrick looked like a sweet puppy dog about to be given a treat by its mistress.

Madelyn looked down at her plate and shook her head, "I'm afraid it's not. She simply can't spare me those three days. I begged her, but she can't let me go."

The puppy looked like he had just been punched. "Oh. I see. I understand."

"But we can still have fun while you're in Paris, no? Oh please, Fredrick, don't look so sad." She put her hand on top of his and he looked at her again. He grasped her hand and kissed it sweetly.

"You're right. We should still have fun." He looked unconvincing and Madelyn wondered how he'd become a great actor as Goebbels had destined. His face bounced back to its almost natural smile, and he continued with, "After all, we are young and this is Paris, right? The city of love?"

"Love?" Madelyn froze. Was he in love with her? Impossible, they had only been out together twice. She had no idea how she really felt about him. She had feelings for him, but were they that strong? And if he truly felt that way about her, her retraction from the relationship would be all the more crushing for him. She would feel enormously guilty.

Live for the moment, she told herself, don't think too much about that.

"Well, yes. I think I've made myself quite readable. In all honesty, it was love at first sight. At the Furher's Gala in Berchtesgaden? You wore that green dress and danced with that SS Colonel? The Jew Hunter?"

"Hans Landa." She said quietly, shrinking a little in her seat at that memory.

"Yes, him. I must admit, I was quite jealous of him. I went around asking anyone and everyone if they knew who you were. When we were fortunate to dine together, I knew fate had stepped in." He was leaning over the table at her now, brown eyes full of an emotion she had only seen once before.

"You love me, Fredrick? You don't even know me!" she stared at her fidgeting hands until he grasped one so gently that she barely felt it.

"I know that I love you. Isn't that enough?" his voice was as gentle as his touch, with a twang of genuine caring.

Her head was a swirl of conflicting emotions. He was a Nazi, which meant he was incapable of love. Yet here he was, professing his love for her on top of the Eiffel Tower in a very romantic setting. Her confusion and frustration spilled over and her eyes flooded with tears.

"What's wrong? Liesel?" he asked, moving out of his chair to crouch on the floor in front of her. She cleared the tears away and touched his cheek.

"Oh, Fredrick, if you knew who I really was…"

He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. "I would still love you."

Madelyn could see he was sincere, but he had no inclination that she was a spy. This double life was taking its toll on her in a large way. She had no choice, however, but to play along.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his, "I love you too, Fredrick."


	24. Breakup

After a few more blissful dates, Fredrick left. She was now heading to the post box with the letter that would shatter his fragile heart. He had left five days ago, as filming had begun yesterday.

'Dearest Fredrick,' the letter read.

'I would like to thank you for all the kindness you showed me in our brief time together. Although I still strongly believe that your feelings of love were dangerously misdirected, I was, and am still, extremely flattered. However, I regret to inform you that I do not reciprocate your feelings in the slightest. That is not to say that I do not care about you, because I do care a great deal, which is why this letter is so hard to write. I know that I told you I loved you, but I wasn't completely sure whether or not I was. After many hours' deliberation following your departure, I came to the conclusion that I never truly loved you as you loved me and in all likelihood never will. We live in two different worlds, I'm afraid, you in your budding cinematic career and me in my servitude. We should end it now before we become too emotionally involved. I apologize for any pain this causes you, but it has to be done.

Fondly,

Liesel'

She ran over the letter in her head as she walked away from the post box after she deposited the letter inside. It seemed so impersonal, but that was to be expected because Bridget had written it when Madelyn found she had neither the heart nor the time to write.

As it was now early September 1943, Madelyn had realized that this time last year she had just finished her nurse training in London. Living with Nikolai and Hamisch in her grandparent's old house.

She wondered how well Hamisch was faring as a doctor, and how well Jack and Nikolai were getting along. They had not been on the best of terms when she left. Fighting over some waitress at the bar or something.

A pang of steely fear hit her in the gut. She had heard about the bombings on London, how many had died, how the children of London had been evacuated to ensure their safety. What if Hamisch and Nikolai…

She didn't bear to finish that thought, it was simply too terrible. Not only because three of her dearest friends would supposedly be dead, but because that would leave her nowhere to go after the war. She didn't want to remain with Bridget, assuming they both survived. Going back to Germany was out of the question, but maybe she could go to America if there was nothing left for her in London.

These thoughts were silly, she told herself, the war was nowhere near over, despite her and Bridget's attempts. She reentered her place of residence and smiled at Bridget, who was sitting on the couch with a male guest.

"Aah, here she is now, Colonel! Leisel, come in here and say hello to an old friend of mine!" she rose, as did the man.

Hans Landa stared back at her, his canine smile plastered on his face, forever mocking her.

"Colonel Landa, how nice to see you." She said, presenting her hand. He raised it to his lips and she inwardly shuddered.

"You two know each other?" Bridget asked, casting Madelyn a confused look.

"Yes, we met the night of the Furher's gala, when you had the audacity to leave this poor girl alone! And in a room full of liquored-up army men!" Landa joked as he invited Madelyn to come sit back down.

"If I remember correctly, Colonel, you weren't exactly sober yourself!" Madelyn joked back and the three shared a laugh.

The faux niceties continued for a few minutes more. They spoke of the weather and the war and how a certain army official's marriage ended in the most scandalous of ways. Apparently he caught his wife not only hiding, but also sleeping with, a Jewish man she had apparently known in her childhood.

"That poor man! I assume the wife has gone to prison?" Madelyn said conversationally. She kept her eyes fixed on Landa as an appeal to his authority on the subject and tried very hard not to portray anything else.

"Naturally. She will be sent to Berlin to face a public execution to show what happens not only when a person hides Jews, but what happens to women who are unfaithful to their husbands. Not that you two beauties should have to worry about that," he took a sip from the wine glass in front of him. "Although I heard, through various semi-trustworthy sources, mind you, that our young Fraulein Schwartz was being escorted about by none other than the handsome Fredrick Zoller." He turned to Madelyn with a smile of mocking congratulations on his face.

Madelyn couldn't help the tears that sprung. She excused herself and ducked into the kitchen. Bridget explained that she had just broken up with Fredrick and was still very sensitive about it. Madelyn heard Landa apologize profusely, something she had never heard before.

The lies. Let the war continue for a thousand years, but please just stop the lies, she thought. She took a deep breath to steady herself, wiped the tears away, and grabbed another bottle of wine before she returned to Bridget and Landa. However, when she reentered the living room Bridget was reentering from the foyer.

"Where did the Colonel go?" she asked, setting down the new bottle of wine.

Bridget answered that he had some business to take care of before he went back to Berlin later that day, so he left.

"Did you mail the letter?" Bridget asked in a sudden change of subject.

"Of course I did." Madelyn grew quiet.

"Good girl. And nice touch with the tears, it was very believable." Bridget patted her shoulder as she passed her on her way to the kitchen.

Once Bridget was out of the room Madelyn whispered, "Believable because they were real."

* * *

Donny awoke with a start. I was a cool but humid night in the Black Forest and he was alone in his tent. The dream had been so real he was having trouble accepting his current situation as reality.

Madelyn had been there, in his tent, waiting for him after a slaying. He didn't know how she got there, how she found them, but he was elated to see her. Without saying anything she stood and silenced his questions with a kiss. All of a sudden, they were in Paris as bombs were raining down. She took his hand and they dodged the falling missiles together. As they ran, she looked over at him and smiled. That smile that would be worth quitting the Basterds and tossing aside his bat. Her sweet, beautiful, kind, dangerous smile that made him wonder what was waiting on the other side of it.

And then a stray shell hit her, and he was left holding her hand, her wrist nothing but a bloody stump.

Now, he was awake, clutching his bat to his chest, covered in a chilled sweat and breathing heavily. His eyes were wide and he was searching for her in the dark. He poked his head out of his tent into the early morning haze and saw Stiglitz sitting by the fire, cooking something in a frying pan.

He nodded toward Donny and Donny nodded back before pulling his head back into his tent. He laid back onto his bedroll and sighed heavily. There was something under his head. He reached under the pillow and pulled out his copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_.

"Dammit, Maddie."


	25. Brewing Backlash

Donny hadn't thought about her in months. And now, after one stupid dream, she was all he could think about. His Nazi-killing had been affected; he had stopped narrating and had started getting angrier and angrier. The poor Nazis were badly beaten, but it took them a long time to die. Donny had the knack for making them suffer.

Raine cursed himself. He knew it was that damn girl again. Getting in his best fighter's head and fucking things up. He needed to take back control of the situation, and he needed to fast. The troupe didn't have time to sit around waiting to make sure Donny's Nazi victims had died. So, after a particularily long and excruciating Nazi death, Raine pulled him aside.

"Now look, Donowitz, you know I like your way of handlin' Nazis, right?" Raine asked, spitting some tobacco juice aside.

"Yeah, Lieutenant."

"Now I want you to quit thinkin' about that girl and just get the killin' done. She's gone, Donowitz, long gone. Prolly been dead for a few months now, what with the way the war's goin'. Let her go." Raine offered Donny some snuff, which the Bear Jew declined, before he walked away.

If only it were that simple. The thought that Maddie was dead made Donny nauseous. But Raine was his CO, so he had to at least try.

No matter how it hurt.

* * *

The day the invitation came, Madelyn had been awake all night, warding off nightmares. Bombs were exploding everywhere, she was running, and then she would either see Donny wave just before he was blown to smithereens, or she would catch his still-smiling decapitated head.

It wasn't only Donny. It was practically everyone she had ever met. She would hear Charles scream as a land mine blew up beneath his feet, or see Marie fall forward as Landa stood behind her, smiling at her over a smoking gun. Sometimes it was even Bridget. A pair of mysterious hands choking the life out of her.

She didn't know that she was close enough to Bridget to actually be terrified by her death. Every night for the last few weeks, as the bombs grew closer to Paris, she would wake screaming after seeing someone she had cared for die.

The envelope was not unlike most other Third Reich invitations. Thick, heavy paper with embossed lettering. This one read,

'Bridget von Hammersmark and three guests are cordially invited to the premier of Minister Goebbels' latest film, Nation's Pride, on June the 12th. Please respond by May 25th.'

However, there was something else in the envelope as well. It was a letter, folded into quarters, with 'Liesel' printed in neat cursive.

'Liesel,

I would like this to be an angry letter. However, with Minister Goebbels' constant praise of my acting skills, it simply cannot be. When you shattered my heart, it apparently made me the greatest actor in all of Europe. With that said, I don't want you to feel like you shouldn't come see my movie with Frau von Hammersmark this summer. In fact, I hope to see you there. I promise you, I will be able to take it. Hope to see you there.

Fondly,

Fredrick'

Madelyn placed the invitation on Bridget's nightstand, as the star was still sleeping. Madelyn peeked out her window onto the street below, and watched some passersby. Then she pulled the shade shut roughly and stormed back to her room. How dare he? How dare he assume that she wouldn't come to perhaps the biggest film premier in the Third Reich just because the star was her ex-beau. She wouldn't be going because it was their policy that one agent stay behind, in relative safety, so that if something went wrong England would still have an agent in the field.

But who would the other three people be? She heard Bridget stirring, and immediately rushed back into her room.

"The Basterds! Of course!" she exclaimed as Bridget hoisted herself up into a sitting position.

"What about them?" Bridget asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"Look at the invitation! You need three escorts. Who better to fill those three spots than three Basterds?" Madelyn was giddy with the idea that she might see Donny again.

"Do they happen to speak fluent German?" Bridget abhorred the idea of bringing cold-blooded killers into her mission. However, she had been working with one for over a year.

"A few of them do, yes. If we could get them into uniforms, but no, there would be too much risk in that, maybe they're members of the cinema world?"

"Darling, please, not before my coffee." Bridget rose and pulled on her robe, leaving the room. Madelyn followed her like a puppy dog.

"We'd have to get Fenech's approval, of course, because he'd be the one who would help us get into contact with Lieutenant Raine- that's the Commanding Officer's name, Aldo Raine- and then he'd have to approve the plan-" Madelyn spoke incessantly as Bridget made her way to the kitchen, much to the hungover spy's chagrin.

"Madelyn! Calm down!" Bridget screamed, momentarily losing her composure. She rebounded from her hysterics quickly, and calmly explained to the young spy that Rome wasn't built in a day and they would plan the plan one step at a time. Madelyn reluctantly agreed.

The prospect of seeing Donny again had Madelyn so excited, although she wouldn't admit it to herself.

The first step was telling Fenech of their plan. Bridget would have to do that on her own, because she was the only one who knew how to operate the radio transmitter hidden in the basement. Bridget went down after breakfast and came up after an hour. Madelyn stared at her intently, trying to decipher what had happened with Fenech.

"He said yes. He's got his people working to find the Basterds' commander in the United States. He said he'd wait a week for the Basterds to respond, as well as find another British citizen to go in with us."

Madelyn was giddy on the inside, but didn't let it show.

It was the longest week of her life.

* * *

Raine got the message from his CO a few days later. He was to contact some British man to see if he and his crew wanted to take part in a special mission. Raine contacted the man, General Ed Fenech, and after hearing the proposed plan he agreed. In about a month he and his crew would meet their British contact in a little village north of Paris. He gathered his men around a bonfire and explained.

"In about a month's time, a whole slew of German movie makers will be celebratin' the release of their latest piece a shit film. We've been commissioned by the Brits to blow up the theater this little production'll be in. So we gonna need us more explosives. The next month will be spent killin' Nazis and stealin' dynamite from their trucks. Any questions?"

The men grumbled noes, and Raine went back to his tent to formulate a plan. Donny followed and entered the Lieutenant's tent.

"The Brits asked us to do this?" he asked.

"No, I know whatcha thinkin' Donowitz, and she's not a part of it. At least, not that I know of. Like I said, she probably dead. Drop it." Raine said sternly. Donny nodded and backed out of the tent like a child who had been scolded.

* * *

It took Fenech eight days to confirm and approve Bridget and Madelyn's plan to move forward. They were going to find out as much about the premier as they could, down to guest lists and seating arrangements. So Bridget put in a call to Goebbels and convinced him to give her a part in organizing. It was a small part, as all the big parts had been taken, but it was a way to get their hands on a guest list.

Bridget was put in charge of the RSVP list, and all the calls and letters to confirm or deny were forwarded to Bridget's phone and front door.

This might be easier than I thought, thought Madelyn.


	26. Boom!

Maddie entered La Louisianne with Bridget, who then made a big fuss about forgetting her scarf at the hotel to provide an excuse for Maddie's exit. There were some German soldiers there having a celebration of some sort. They were pretty inebriated, so Maddie didn't think they would be much trouble.

She ducked into the abandoned building across the street from the bar and silently crept up the stairs, moving toward the voices she heard.

"Speakin' of Frau von Hammersmark," said an all-too familiar voice, "Whose idea was it for the death trap rendezvous?"

"It's not a death trap, it's the Frau's favorite bar. But I wouldn't expect you to know that, Donny." She said, stepping into the room. Raine turned around from the window and nodded.

"It's about damn time, Girlie, what took ya so damn long?"

"Hello Lieutenant." She turned her attention to the new man in the group, a tall drink of water wearing the uniform of an officer. "You're Fenech's man?" she asked him.

"Yes, I am. Archie Hicox, pleasure." He took her hand and brushed it gently with his lips.

Donny shot up, "Well, fuck, Lieutenant isn't it time to go yet?"

Raine checked his watch, "Keep yer pants on, Donowitz, we got about another twenty minutes or so." Donny sat down in a huff, much like a child after a scolding would.

"Oh, right, I have something to report that you probably won't like." Madelyn remembered the drunken soldiers and thought it would be worth mentioning.

"What, Girlie?"

"There's a group of soldiers in the bar." She said it so matter-of-factly that she didn't expect Raine's reaction. He had her pinned against the wall by her neck, choking her.

"WHAT IN THE SAM HELL IS GOIN' ON? YOU SETTIN' US UP, GIRLIE?" he shouted.

"No, I swear, they were there when we arrived." She had no choice but to whisper because he was crushing her windpipe.

"Let her go, Raine, I'm sure it's a coincidence. A British agent would not sabotage a chance like this." Hicox put a hand on Raine's shoulder and he softened, letting Maddie go. She gasped for breath and breathlessly thanked Hicox.

"Anyway, they're pretty drunk. They shouldn't bother you." She said, rubbing her neck, hoping the bruises wouldn't be too dark. Raine just nodded and walked out of the room. He was followed by his men, leaving only Madelyn and Hicox.

"Not a very stable fellow, is he?" he asked, referencing Raine.

"No, but that's what makes him effective." Hicox followed the men and Maddie followed him. She left them there, heading over to the tailor's to await their fittings. She and the tailor made small talk, but nothing of consequence happened until she heard shooting coming from down the street.

She decided to stay where she was, after all, one agent always stayed behind in case trouble arose. She looked out the window and saw Raine walking down the street, carrying Bridget who was bleeding from her leg.

"Shit." She said, leaving the tailor shop.

* * *

"You clean up well, Lieutenant." Maddie said as she adjusted his bowtie. She had been helping the men get into the right suits and tie their ties the way proper German society demanded.

"Thank ya, girlie."

"What about me? Don't I clean up well?" asked Donny, who had been vying for Madelyn's attention since the previous night. Madelyn enjoyed the attention and was making the Bear Jew wait until the very last second.

"I guess." She said, going to attend to Bridget. She heard the Bear Jew's footsteps as he shadowed her into the hallway, pinning her to the wall with a forceful but gentle push.

"Now you listen and you listen good, Miss Murder," he taunted, "I've been thinkin' you were dead for a while now and then I find out that you're alive and you don't say a word. What's goin' on in your head, there, woman? Don't you feel the same as you used to?"

"Of course I do, but we've a mission to complete and it looks to be a suicide mission at best. I was protecting myself from remembering you telling me you love me two hours before your death." The words came out quickly, like vomit. Before he had time to say anything, be it positive or negative, she kissed him on the mouth. The kiss was full, passionate, and held all of the pent-up emotion from their all-too-long separation.

When they broke apart, Donny looked stunned and backed away. Madelyn averted her eyes and proceeded to Bridget's room.

* * *

There was a tense silence in the back of the car until the spies arrived at the premiere, when Raine turned to Maddie and joked, "Last chance to tell me you love me, girlie."

"And after all this time, I still don't have the, what do you call them? Stones?" she smiled and opened the door, where the three men escorted Bridget out onto the red carpet. She bid them a last, very fond farewell.

"Café Maude, s'il vous plait." She said to the driver as she shut the door. The café was kitty corner from the cinema, and keeping with protocol, Maddie stayed behind. She would watch for Raine's signal from the front door to escort Bridget back to the café for safety, then the theater would explode.

She watched as the Germans arrived, from generals to actors. She caught a sight of Fredrick, looking very debonair in a white uniform. Once they were all inside, all Madelyn could do was wait. She drank two full cappuccinos and smoked three cigarettes before she started suspecting that something was wrong. It wasn't until she saw the truck with Hans Landa in the passenger seat going down the street that she knew it.

She instantly regretted her decision to walk away from Donny earlier that day. She should've stayed, should've made him say what she wanted to hear. And possibly taken the situation to a more physical level.

Five minutes later she went outside and stood in the street, debating on whether to go in or not. She could swear she smelled smoke coming from the building, the inside must've been on fire already. But how? As she took a step towards the theater to investigate, a bloom of flames erupted from the cinema, followed by massive amounts of debris.

She barely saw the chunk of marquee before it hit her in the head.

Then there was nothing but blackness.

**Thank you for reading! I will be putting up a sequel hopefully within the next few weeks. Reviews would be lovely! **


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